The Rider Conspiracy
by Zwoosh-K9
Summary: A dark conspiracy that runs right through the heart of Alex's life comes back to drag the poor teen spy into the world he thought he'd abandoned. Omega could be anywhere, they have planned everything. How can you fight someone who has already won? Contains K-Unit,OC, violence and Scorpia Rising spoilers.
1. Dad

**This is set after Scorpia Rising, just to warn those out there who are afraid of spoilers.**

**A/N: This fanfic is being held hostage; the more reviews I get the more likely I am to update it regularly. The less reviews then the less i can be bothered updating. It's a win-win situation. **

**I strongly recommend that you read about three or four chapters before deciding that you don't like this. I've made that fatal mistake once or twice, and it really doesn't help the dear writer. A simple, two line review makes all the difference between no reviews. Anonymous or not, it doesn't matter to us. Please review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or any of the characters mentioned so far. They are the property of Anthony Horowitz, and if it was mine, then I wouldn't be writing fan fiction; I would be giving you a serving of awesomeness from our favourite teenage spy.**

Alex strolled down the road, Sabina happily chatting away to him in her own one sided conversation. He rarely talked at all nowadays, not since the Julius Grief Incident, but that didn't perturb her from trying.

It was hard to imagine that here he was, free of MI6's grasp at last, and safe in another country, acting as though it was all a lifetime ago. Joe Byrne had thankfully kept his distance, stressing to other government agencies that Alex Rider was strictly off limits to anyone and everyone in the espionage industry, and he was finally letting it all drain away down the metaphorical plughole. No CIA, no NSA, no British Government blackmailing him; he was settling back into normalcy.

But still, despite the more relaxed lifestyle he was leading, it was hard to let go of the past, as habit that constantly plagued the once teenage spy. He was yet to adjust to his American climate, replacing simple words like _pavement _with _sidewalk_, and _sofa _with _couch_; the little things. He was popular at the new school he had been enrolled in, his British background and air of mysteriousness had attracted much attention, both positive and negative. The girls loved his passive and collected approach on life. It never ceased to amuse Sabina, and she constantly teased him about how he could make all the girls swoon for him.

Sabina's parents, Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure (although they insisted that Alex call them Ed and Liz), had adopted Alex, essentially making him Sabina's brother. The two's relationship quickly developed into a more sibling-like friendship. Their love interest with one another diminished, but Alex was grateful that they still kept up a close bond, talking about what would've been embarrassing or awkward subjects. In fact, their new relationship reminded Alex of what he had had with Jack, his old housekeeper and guardian.

A pang of guilt washed over Alex. Jack had been like a big sister to Alex, and it was entirely his fault that she was dead, killed in a horrific explosion in the Middle East when the pair had been captured.

'No_,'_ Alex thought to himself with utter disdain, 'it was all MI6's fault.'

"Alex? Alex, are you alright?" Sabina asked, finally stopping in her rant about some girl named Miranda and her new shoes. Alex glanced at her, noting the brow creased in concern, her sparkling blue eyes highlighted against the light freckles that dotted her cheeks.

"I'm fine, just thinking that's all." He said, dismissing his worry but doing nothing to ease it. Sabina let it drop, she was used t the dismissal and there was very little she could do for Alex except be there when he needed her.

They walked on a little, having reached the coastline of California. The Pleasure's had a large apartment near to the beach, and had insisted that Alex join them there, giving him an option of getting away from the country that had ruined his life. The rest of the trip back home was kept in mutual silence, neither saying anything, just enjoying the view of rolling crystal blue waves.

But the peaceful tranquillity was soon broken when the two teenagers reached the steps up to the Pleasure's apartments. The front door hung on one of its hinges, the wood around the lock smashed and splintered. Sabina looked to Alex for a moment, the look of shock and worry etched across her face, before she rushed up the steps racing inside with Alex quickly in tow.

The entire hall was a mess. Furniture upturned and paintings torn from walls. The whole scene was complete devastation, like a tornado had ravaged its way through the household. The other rooms on the ground floor were just as bad, broken glass scattered across the wooden floor and yet more destruction.

Sabina started to call out desperately, "Mum? Dad? Are you there? Please, are you alright?" Alex stooped down to examine some of the debris, gingerly picking it up and turning it around in his hand. Someone had been here, and he couldn't ignore the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that maybe his past was coming back to haunt him.

Just then, Alex heard a scream come from upstairs. Where was Sabina? He glanced around, noticing her absence before dashing up the flight of stairs.

She stood just in the door of her parent's bedroom, tears streaming down her cheeks as she silently sobbed with her hands covering her mouth. "Sabina, what's wrong?" Alex asked, stepping past her and into the bedroom. The sight he was met by was horrific.

Both Ed and Liz were lying on the bed, their feet hanging off the edge. The sheets were stained a dark crimson red, and their mouths hung open like dead fish, their eyes just as glassy and pale. Alex didn't want to look any further, already just sick from the stench of blood. Instead, Alex's attention snapped instantly to the man leaning against the dresser set across the room. Alex's face immediately morphed into his steely mask that hid his emotions and gave only a blank look.

The man was dressed in a fine suit, not a speck of dirt on him. He wore a bowler hat and a dark green tie, accompanied by leather gloves, one hand holding a bunch of flowers, in the other a clean kitchen knife that almost certainly down the deed that Alex saw before him. Behind him, Sabina gave a strangled sob, and his heart dropped some more. Why did this always have to happen to him?

"The Gentleman, I presume?" He asked, his voice carried a hard cold edge to it, one he had only heard from himself when Jack died.

"But of course, Mr Rider, the one and only." The Gentleman said, tipping his hat in the direction of Alex, "I'm sorry for the mess, but I had my orders. It had to memorable." Alex didn't react; instead he simply put himself between Sabina and her parent's assassin.

The Gentleman chuckled lightly, "Did you really think you could get away? Did you really honestly believe that by simply moving away from your destiny was going to work Mr Rider? There are people, Mr Rider, people that would very much like you back home. What do you know of an organisation called Omega?" the man questioned, and before letting Alex answer, continued with his rant, "They're everywhere, and no matter how cliché that might sound, it is the simple truth. They also have an unhealthy obsession in your affairs, despite how this may seem grotesque and unprofessional; this murder was actually to help you."

Alex snorted, "Help me?" he gestured towards the bed, "How is _this_ helping anybody?" The Gentleman gave him a sinister smile, "It got your attention, didn't it?" and with that, he turned the knife in his hand so that he now threateningly pointed downwards. Alex pushed Sabina back, slamming the door and ordering her to run. Together, they flew down the stairs with The Gentleman following close behind them, knife and flowers in hand.

Sabina ran screaming out the door and out onto the street, her voice shrieking for help. Alex had never seen her so hysterical before. The loss of her parents must've hit her hard. He turned around, skidding to a halt in the front door and faced the assassin. He too slowed down, and took a lunge at Alex, which he swiftly blocked to one side, and slammed his weight against the expose arm. The Gentleman stumbled back a bit before continuing his relentless assault, his face contorted in rage. The sight was quite comical had Alex had the time to stand back and appreciate the humour; flowers in one hand and bloody knife in the other. Wait, bloody knife?

Alex looked down at his hand, seeing the red gash that was now bleeding. The small distraction of pain and momentary confusion was enough for the Gentleman to throw the flowers at his face only to then hastily throw himself at Alex, sending both spy and assassin tumbling down the steps onto the pavement. Alex hit his head hard as the two came to a stop at the foot of the concrete, and was overwhelmed with a searing pain in his stomach. The Gentleman stood up, heaving from the exertion of the fall, admiring the knife that was now unceremoniously jutting out of Alex's right side. Alex was barely aware of anything around him, and only minutely registered gunshots being fired.

The assassin slumped to the floor, his body crumpling upon his death. Two feet filled Alex's vision before the figure they belonged to knelt down to tend to his wound, one hand brushing lightly against his face. Darkness was slowly creeping its way into Alex's sight, and he could feel himself drifting off. A gruff baritone voice above him spoke softly,

"It's gonna be alright Alex, you're gonna be okay." And before Alex passed out he whispered one word that came straight to his head,

"Dad…"

**So, first chapter and what do you think? You're reviews are most welcome, just a minute of your time si vous plait. The second chapter should be up in a couple of days earlier if I get enough reviews, and until then, I'll leave your imaginings as to what happens next. **

**For now… here's a pig ( ' oo ' )**


	2. Ben

**After reading reviews (many thanks to: MyOpium, verycherry398, zeichnerinaga, Albany and ReillyScarecrowRocks) I have been spurred on to quickly write the second chapter. So, therefore I dedicate this chapter to them, and we finally get into some proper story developments! This chapter is longer than the last, and I would like to point out the more reviews I get, the more likely I am to write faster. Tell your friends; shout it from the hilltops and so forth,**

**Disclaimer: I yet again do not own Alex Rider obviously. I'm not middle aged and famous…**

Hospitals were the equivalent of Hell on Earth for Alex, apart from Brecon Beacons but that was understandable. An SAS training camp wasn't supposed to heal your wounds our make you better, a hospital on the other hand was a place of medicine and good health. Alex had visited hospitals frequently when he was younger; Uncle Ian always took a trip to the hospital whenever he came back from business excursions. And these visits were never pretty, and from the viewpoint of a secluded five year old, hospitals seemed like a place of doom and despair, there dimly lit corridors and dull faced nurses and doctors did nothing to help his perspective.

So when Alex awoke in just such a place, it was safe to say that he wasn't quite the happiest person in the world right now. The scowl set upon his face deterred most of the nurses from talking to him, as they quickly went about their job, avoiding eye contact. He was now only waiting for whatever stupid government agent to walk through the door and get him roped up in another reckless and life threatening mission, assuming it was only a matter of time before someone decided to poke their head around in his private life. He couldn't wait to release some stress by ranting at said agent, a small _tiny_ smile crept upon his face with the prospect of finally getting some well deserved payback.

A light knock at the door brought Alex out of his sulking musings, and before he could answer, a tall broad man stepped into the room. Alex was about to comment on the tardiness of the government but something stopped him.

"Ben?" Alex asked, confusion momentarily sweeping across his face, "What are you doing here?"

Ben Daniels smiled warmly at Alex, "Can't I check up on an old friend?" he walked over to Alex's bed, setting down a plastic bag on the floor. He was dressed in a casual navy blue tee shirt and jeans, with a jacket draped over one arm. The younger spy examined the older one for a second,

"Last time we saw each other, it was on Dragon Nine. I haven't heard from you since, nor did I hear from you before then." The wariness apparently showed, and Ben noted it,

"True, but back then I didn't realise you were a teenage spy. And forgive me for not contacting sooner. I would've, but work has been kinda difficult lately, what with Blunt's retirement and all, there's been a huge shift around at the bank. I wish that we maybe could've met in better circumstances." He explained, gesturing towards Alex's bandages. His hand subconsciously rubbed over the wound, which had now been stitched up and cleaned. The pain was nothing but a dull throb, and Alex could bear that, he had obviously had worse. Ben snapped his fingers, realisation reminding him of something. "I got a few things for you. Just stuff mostly, y'know like cards and whatnot. But most importantly, that friend of yours… what was her name? Sabrina? No, Sabina Pleasure asked me to give you this, to make sure it got to you."

Ben handed over a crisp white envelope. Written on the front was Alex Rider, the 'A' and the 'R' in a fanciful text. Carefully peeling open the letter, Alex slipped out the letter, just as smart as the envelope had been. He folded it out, and began to read. He didn't care if Ben was there, he owed Sabina too much:

_Dear Alex,_

_I'm sorry about everything. I thought that this would work, you living with us and all, but obviously not. We thought we could handle it, that we could give you a better life and keep you safe. I was the one who even suggested the whole idea, and for that I blame myself._

_They're dead Alex, and now I know how you feel. How you must've felt without you parents, when your uncle died... when Jack died. I will miss them, and although you may think of me as strong and brave I'm not. I'm just not like you, I can't cope. Not anymore. It's too much Alex. I'm going to live with my grandparents up in New York. I would've asked if you could come but… but I don't want to get hurt anymore. I know that sounds selfish, but I hope you understand. _

_It wouldn't have mattered anyway. They had to take you in to protect you. There's something wrong with them Alex. They're acting like they don't know what to do and it's scaring me Alex. They're out of their depth so be careful and stay safe._

_Good Bye Alex… _

_Love, Sabina_

Alex read the letter twice just to make sure this was happening. He read it again and again but the words remained the same. The ink began to run, and Alex noticed that he was crying. Damn it! He would not cry in front of Ben! Furiously he wiped the tears away, and crumpled up the evidence into a dense ball and threw it at the bin set at the far side of the room.

Ben's expression was soft. He knew what the letter had said; he had had to read it for security purposes, and he could understand why Alex was upset. The teen had just lost his last constant in the world, and now he was truly alone. Well almost, Ben mused,

"Do understand what's happened Alex?" he asked, giving Alex a moment or two to regain his composure. Alex nodded, not yet trusting his voice.

"MI6 has been watching you for a while. It was only supposed to be for a year or two, just to make sure nothing went wrong for you," Alex snorted at that, but Ben continued, "The Gentleman was hired by an unknown organisation that we are yet to identify. They call themselves Omega; they rose to power just after Scorpia's fall and quite quickly set themselves within the ranks of the criminal underworld. We don't know who they are or what they're about, but they seem to have an interest in you. That's why you've been brought back to Britain, for your own protection."

Alex looked up wide eyed. He was back in Britain?

"That's impossible…" he murmured incredulously.

"It's not. You've been unconscious for several days. The knock to your head caused a severe concussion, that and the stab wound meant you went into a light coma. During that time, MI6 and the CIA had an emergency consultation and agreed that it would be best that you return home so we can get to the bottom of this." Ben stood up and strode over to the window, "At the moment, you're in St. Dominic's. Once you're discharged you'll be placed with an agent for safety. You can relax Alex, there's no mission. We don't even know what we're dealing with here yet, so for now you'll just have to hang tight."

"When can I be discharged?" Alex asked, allowing himself to fall back into the clutches of espionage yet again. A feeling of helpless was sauntering its way back into his life as his independence, freedom and control were all harshly yanked away from him by some snob-nosed secret agent. "Soon, the doctors just need to check you over, make sure nothing's wrong and you ready to go. Today I you'd like, but you have only just woken up mere hours ago, so I'd take it easy for a while if I were you."

Alex nodded, conceding with Ben that he should get some rest. He was mentally exhausted, losing Sabina, getting thrown right back to square one with MI6 and being under threat. He idly picked at the few bandages wrapped around his hand where he had blocked the Gentleman's knife, "Do you know who I will be staying with, or do you pick lots?" he asked, a little sarcasm returning to his voice. Ben smiled inwardly, knowing that Alex would be alright after all. He had been at first worried about the boy when he found him battling it out with the Gentleman, then when he fell into the coma, he was apprehensive. He knew Alex was thought, and that he had suffered much worse, but it still nerved him of often the teenager got wounded so badly.

He turned around from the window, grinning at the boy before finally putting him out of his misery,

"Actually, you'll be staying with me."

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The trip back from St Dominic's to Ben's house was uneventful. Alex enjoyed the few moments of silence to admire how much London hadn't changed since he'd been gone. The streets were just as grey, the buses just as red, and the rain was just as… well, just as wet. A part of him actually didn't miss the sun back in California, he had always enjoyed a little bit of rain here or there. He listened intently to the patter of droplets on the roof of the car as it negotiated its way through the busy traffic, imaging the rain to be a natural orchestra, conducting a simple symphony out of nothing more than water.

Ben let Alex keep to himself. He didn't want to pressure the boy any further than he had been today. He was okay with the news of living with Ben as a temporary guardian, and had in fact been a little amused at the concept of Ben being a 'fatherly role model' as Alex had put it. Ben had cringed inwardly at that, but Alex either ignored it or took not notice of it. It was apparent that Alex's spying skills were slipping, but Ben thought that to be a good thing, if anything at all; it showed he was beginning to be normal again.

They arrived at Ben's house, the car pulling up, its tyres crunching as it crushed the gravel underneath it. The car stopped, the engine cut and both occupants got out. Alex gazed upwards to take in the house. It was positively massive! Shrubs lined the front windows, and a neatly arranged flowerbed sat before them. Alex had never taken Ben to be the gardening type, being in the SAS and all, but he was mildly surprised that when he brought it up, Ben confessed and said it often helped him to take his mind of his work, especially after a hard assignment.

Ben ushered Alex inside, taking it upon himself to carry the cases that carried all of Alex's things into the house. Once inside, he smirked at Alex's expression of wonderment before placing the suitcases by the foot of the stairs. The walls were painted a pale cream, with modern yet tasteful décor adorning the walls. The furniture, from what Alex could see, was of the same standard, and he actually felt as though he was starting to like the place. Ben offered Alex the grand tour, firstly looking around the ground floor.

To Alex, the house was like a TARDIS. Inside there was so much space. The living room had enough space for at least ten people to sit at best, and a huge fireplace stood majestically by the wall, picture frames scattered upon his mantelpiece. A family portrait hung above it, and Alex could pick out Ben's parents, and two other individuals who he figured must be his brother's, one younger and one older by the look's of it. The kitchen adjoined to the living room providing the illusion of even more space. It was, like most of the house, modern, with top of the range cooker and worktops, and stainless steel cutlery and cooking utensils. There was a bench where Alex assumed must have been somewhere to eat informally, such as breakfast or lunch. The mention of food brought the spies to the dining room, which heralded many surprises. Large French doors overlooked a massive garden, and the dining room, despite the rest of what Alex had so far seen, was more older looking, and filled with a couple of antiques.

Leading upstairs, Alex was shown Ben's room, bland in Alex's honest opinion, which he bluntly stated without actually realising. Ben just said that he didn't use the room much, as he was away on many missions or work with the SAS, which he still held in high regard with is work, managing to two like someone might manage a business and family life. Ben's office neighboured his bedroom, and had the familiar modern feel to it. Alex was shown the bathroom, which was spacious and quite well equipped with a considerably large bath set to one side, the necessary toilet and sink, and a large shower cubicle on the opposite side. The walls and floors were paved with sandy granite, and Ben told Alex that he would be mostly the only person who'll use this bathroom as Ben had his own en suite. Ben mentioned that the house had a third floor, decorated, but yet to be used for some purpose or another. Finally they came to Alex's room, and when opening the door he was yet again surprised.

Ben had evidently taken much consideration into his room. The bed covers were a plain light blue, Alex's favourite colour. The same colour was used for the curtains and carpet, and he had a wardrobe and dresser of matching wood. A writing desk stood below the window that watched over the great expanse of the garden. The rays of the sunset were already casing a warm, earthly glow into the room, and Alex, despite his demeanour, felt instantly at home. He had strong memories of his time living with Ian and Jack, and the room perfectly fit in with those memories. He even had a computer on the desk! He had never had a proper one before now, surviving on an ancient laptop Ian had handed down eons ago.

"Ben, this is… this is incredible." Alex mumbled as Ben brought in his cases, "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble."

"Nonsense, Alex. I want you to be comfortable so I did a little background research. Whether you like it or not, there are still _some_ people who care about you." Alex was about to question what he meant by that, but was interrupted by Ben making a quick retreat back out the room, "I'll leave you to unpack and get settled, and then we'll see about dinner. I'll be downstairs in the living room if you need me."

And with that he was out of the door, and Alex sighed, conceding in himself that he had better get unpacked.

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Alex was making his way downstairs, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard muffled murmurs coming from the living room. He had finished unpacking, and was about to go and find Ben, but his curiosity was getting the better of him and he decided to listen in.

"_Yes, he arrived safely… no nothing's gone wrong… He's upstairs getting settled I think. Is there anymore news?... Another one?... That's the third time this week. Boost security around him, and keep searching… Yes… yes, I'll report in tomorrow morning… Yes, of course I'll bring him. I don't have much choice do I? Goodnight." _Alex heard the phone clunk back on the receiver, and he quietly continued his way down the stairs, acting as though he hadn't heard a word.

"I know you heard all that, Alex." Ben said, as he entered the room, "Call it a hunch, but we're both spies here, so I kinda figured you'd be listening in." Alex scowled lightly at having been caught, "We're gonna have to report in to MI6 tomorrow morning, so I want you to be up and early. Can you do that?" Ben said, his tone becoming stern and somewhat… _fatherly_. Alex cringed at that; Ben was taking this role way too seriously. "Sure," Alex said, having been used to early mornings all his life anyway, it wasn't that big of a deal.

"What are we going to eat," Alex asked, changing the subject. "Whatever you want kiddo," Ben's reply came, wincing slightly at the nickname. He hadn't meant to say that, but it came naturally to him after having looked after his younger brother.

A thin smile tugged at Alex's lips, "How about shoe polish and rubber ducks?" he asked cheekily. Ben just huffed, "Indian it is."

"You said I could have anything I want!" Alex called out as Ben reached for the phone.

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The meal had been fantastic, and although he now had indigestion, Alex felt better. His stay in hospital had starved him of _real_ food, and a curry had always been one of his favourite foods. Probably some more of Ben's research at play, but Alex didn't care, he was to content to be bothered by it.

However, Ben on the other hand was a little wary. Now that he had Alex settled and calmer, he decided to raise a certain issue.

"Alex, do you remember anything about when you were attacked by the Gentleman?"

The sudden change of tone shocked Alex a little at first, but he quickly recovered,

"A little; I just remember seeing their bodies, then Sabina and I were running, then I was fighting him and he was brandishing that knife, and then falling. Then pain. Pain was all I remembered before blacking out." He answered honestly, figuring it best just to come clean to the older spy.

"And you remember nothing else? Nothing at all?" Ben asked a little trace of hope _and _disappointment in his voice.

"Wait, no. I do remember someone helping me. He was kind, I don't know how I know, but I knew he was going to help me. I think I called him 'Dad'" Alex chuckled, "The situation kinda reminded me of being shot, only it was a lot more terrifying when you know there's a killer right behind you. The same thing happened there when I thought I saw my parents. I guess I just figured the guy was my dad or something." Ben's face was flushed red, and it took only Alex a moment to realise,

"You're kidding me," He asked, his own face beginning to turn a light shade of pink, "That was you?"

Ben nodded, slightly abashed.

**(Awkard… :D )**

**Second chapter finished! Imaginary conga everyone! **

**Anyways, thanks again to those who reviewed, and those who are going to review in the late future. I love to hear your comments, they mean a lot to me. I apologise for long scenes of dialogue and scenes of description, but I need to lay the foundations, as it were. I am now trying to raise the mysterious questions that you might be asking, such as:**

**1) What is Omega and what do they want with Alex?**

**2) Who was Ben on the phone to, and what's happened?**

**3) Will Alex ever survive the eternal embarrassment of calling Ben his father?**

**4) Is this the last we'll see of Sabina? ;)**

**Also, I have a dilemma which I would like your opinion on. Since I am an open minded writer of sorts, I was thinking of the notion of a slight gay theme between two minor characters just to see how it'll play out. Nothing sexual, obviously, just a relationship. Rest assured, if nobody wants that I can easily compensate and the matter what arise again, but if everyone is comfortable with it then I can incorporate into the plot. I need your honest opinion people, the sooner I get them then the sooner I can upload more chapters. (Don't judge me… I was just wondering… X( )**


	3. Bank

**A/N: K9 here. In response to a review, I think I didn't maybe make it clear. Alex is straight, obviously, he had an interest in Sabina and he will most definitely develop a new love relation. As I said, this gay relationship will only be between two MINOR characters, meaning all your favourites will be left in peace. It won't be the major feature of the story, just like other sub plots that are going on.**

**I would again like to thank all those who review; it's a great feeling to be able to provide good fan fiction for you all. So for that, I decided to treat you all with a third chapter early. Are I just kind? :D**

The awkward tension hung thick in the air. Neither Ben nor Alex seemed to want to break the silence, Ben scolding himself for pushing the subject whilst Alex was cursing inwardly at being so stupid and clingy. Every time Alex was in a situation where he believed he was near death why did he always have to have a mini emotional breakdown? Embarrassing was an under statement.

Ben knew that he shouldn't have brought it up. Alex had been in need of comfort and it was a natural instinct to call out for one's mother, or father in this case, when in need of protection. Alex must've thought that he was his father coming to his aid and had assumed so. But beneath all the discomfort, Ben couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Ever since Dragon Nine, ben had vowed to take it upon himself to make sure Alex was happy wherever he went. He felt a bond between him and Alex, call it friendship or brotherly love, and when he had been offered the job of looking after the teenager he had practically jumped at it. He coughed, clearing his throat,

"Look Alex, I-" he started before being cut off,

"Just forget it. I was hurt and you were there. I was just being childish, so drop it." Alex said, dismissively before adding, "_Please?_" Ben reluctantly agreed. He needed to talk with Alex, it was clear the boy still had issues regarding his spying days. If anything, the Pleasure's had hindered Alex by dragging him away from it all and to just pretend that the whole thing never happened. You couldn't ignore problems like these, but Ben eventually came to the conclusion that if Alex ever wanted to talk, he would in his own time, much like most things the boy did.

"M'tired. Please can I go to bed?" Alex asked, jaw widening in a quiet, discreet yawn. Ben gave the teen a look over, taking in the sleepy brown eyes, the black bags that hung under them, the blond unruly mess of hair. Ben did want Alex up early tomorrow, so he agreed with Alex, shooing him off upstairs, not forgetting to remind him to brush his teeth. Alex just grunted in indignant response, but nevertheless did as Ben told him to. Ben chuckled to himself, feeling a little easier now that some of the tension was cleared. It was still there, but together they would hopefully make progress.

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Alex had a restless night. Nightmares shrouded the poor boy's dreams, and despite his best efforts, could not wake himself up from them.

_The nightmare started off with him and Sabina facing each other, the bodies of her dead parents standing behind her. She held the knife, running her fingertip along its sharp glinting edge. A thin trickle of blood oozed down the blade, and she let it drip to the floor. _

"_You did this Alex." She whispered menacingly, "You murdered my parents. You murdered my soul."_

_She took a step towards Alex, but he couldn't move away, his feet rooted to the spot by an unseen force. How was he supposed to fight this? She was his friend! He could never hurt her, not intentionally at least._

"_But it wasn't just us though, was it Alex? Think of everyone else." Slowly, from out of the shadows, more corpses stumbled there way into the light. The bodies of his parents, of Uncle Ian and Jack: their bodies hideously deformed and mottled. He tried to look away, to avert his sight so that the tears wouldn't flow. Yet still they came, running down his cheeks, a never ending stream. More and more people walked into the light: Ash, Julius Grief, Major Winston Yu, Julia Rotherman, Yassen Gregorvich. More and more kept stepping up, each of them moaning and screaming at Alex._

"_Cub!" A faint voice called. The corpses kept coming, surrounding him. He had nowhere to run. He was trapped in this godforsaken darkness, forever tormented by those he's hurt._

"_CUB!" the distant voice called again. He felt as though his body was convulsing with violent shakes just as Sabina took the knife in both hands and raised it high above her head,_

"_You did all of this Alex! You murderer! MURDERER!" She plunged the knife down, deep into his chest._

"ALEX!" Ben yelled, hands gripping Alex's shoulders as he bolted awake. For a moment, Alex's eyes were wide, his skin pale and clammy from perspiration. He hardened his expression when he addressed Ben, but his resolve quickly faded as the nightmare's memories flooded back into him. Tears began to run freely down his face, and he sobbed quietly.

"Oh Alex…" Ben murmured, pulling Alex into a hug. Alex may look back on this moment now in utter embarrassment, but right now he clung to Ben's pyjama top, leaning into the embrace and letting his head rest on Ben's shoulder. He was too tired to care. He just wanted to sleep and forget about everything; to forget about being in danger, to forget about being alone. The warmth from Ben's torso radiated through Alex, and he felt soothed as Ben rubbed his hand up and down Alex's back so as to comfort him. "It's okay, just let it out. It's been tough, I know." He mumbled, continuing to reassure the upset teen. It was the only thing he could now; he'd had experience with his younger brother when he had had nightmares. He hoped that Alex wouldn't take this the wrong way and realised that he was actually trying to help him no hurt him further.

A whole hour passed before Alex's sobbing finally abated to muffled hiccups. It felt good having been able to let go of some stress, but he wasn't willing to accept the fact that he had just cried whilst clutching to a fully grown SAS spy. He made the man swear not to tell anyone, making empty but still intimidating threats if he did otherwise.

"Okay, okay!" Ben said, laughing sincerely, "You win! I won't tell a single living soul without your express permission." He continued to hold Alex, letting the boy rest against him. In all honesty, ben was glad that the kid hadn't reacted badly. He had been expecting Alex to get angry, throw some kind of tantrum and then never trust him again. It was a gamble, trying to console the boy, but it would've had to be done sooner or later. He looked down at Alex, ruffling the teenager's hair before letting go slightly, allowing the teen the sit up on his own.

Alex offered him a watery grin and Ben let him lie back down to sleep. He left the room, but not before glancing back at the already sleeping form of the boy. He was determined now, more so than before, to fix the child's life once and for all.

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Morning came, and Alex and Ben were soon standing outside the Royal and General Bank. The incident last night was left unmentioned, and both the teen and the adult were much more at ease because of that.

The hazy orange sun was just peaking over the skyline, but London's streets were already filled with crowds of busy commuters. Men and women, all different from one another yet all looking exhausted, were making their ways through the city. To think that he, Alex Rider had probably saved their lives more than a half a dozen times and they didn't even register him as they walked past. To them, he was just looked like any other normal teenage boy. Well, he wasn't exactly expecting them to charge over to him, shake his hand furiously and proclaim at what a wonderful job he was doing and how thankful they were. No, that would just be plain creepy. Ben placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, gently but insistently puling him along and into the bank. Alex shuddered, having just remembered that this was where he was shot, and for a moment he thought that Ben had noticed it. But glancing up, he saw Ben smiling apologetically at him. Of course he knew… he must know practically everything about Alex.

The foyer of the Bank had had a revamp. Gone were the wretched carpets and horrible wooden furniture. After what must've been an increase in security, or maybe some higher-up's decision to be fashionable, the entire lobby was know plated with crystal clean sheets of glass. Lifts ran up and down alongside the length of the building, the occupants clearly seen from below, and the floor was covered in large cream tiles. Booths sat on one side of the room, each with a smiling employee in them, all wearing the same horrid lime green uniform. Their smiles were glaring white, a completely unnatural colour that contrasted so badly with their even worse orange tans that Alex thought they could've walked straight out of a magazine and no one would have been the wiser.

In another part of the room, a small glass desk stood, with a just as fake receptionist sat behind it. Ben strode over to it, and Alex hesitantly followed, keeping up in pace with Ben. The receptionist behind the desk didn't even look up as the pair approached,

"I'm sorry sir, but you must make an appointment if you wish to see an accountant" she said, already reverting to a written script in her head. Alex doubted whether if anyone who wasn't a secret agent could actually get her attention.

"I'm here to speak with the head of Money Investments." Ben said, before idly adding, "The sixth department if you wouldn't mind." **(1)**

The receptionist jolted upright in her chair. Her yes were as large as dinner plates, quite literally. Alex had never seen someone act so startled before, and he couldn't help but snicker at the woman's incompetence.

"May I ask who you are and whom you'd like to see?"

"Ben Daniels here to see Tulip Jones,"

Another startled expression. Alex was now sure that Ben was just doing this to put on a show for him, but regardless it was hilarious to watch as the woman fumbled around with papers and phones like some crazed juggler. After a few whispered words of the phone, the receptionist gestured them to a nearby lift, informing them that they should go right up.

Ben thanked the woman, who visibly relaxed after being taken out of the spotlight, and together, Alex and Ben stepped into the lift. Silently, it pulled its way upwards, trundling along until reaching a considerable height. Alex could look down and saw the lobby down below, the people mulling around it no bigger than grains of sand. The doors opened, and Ben herded Alex out and down the corridors until they came to a set of exceedingly large double doors. A man sat behind a desk just off to the side, and nodded to Ben as they went inside. Ben mumbled his greeting before the door finally slipped shut, the room they were in fell into silence.

Alex took a moment to examine his surroundings. He recognised it as Alan Blunt's old office, but it had been remodelled, much like the foyer lower down. A thick, beige carpet ran along the floor, and to one corner of the room was a long executive table, perfect for meetings with large overbearing leather chairs. Embedded into one wall was a fish tank, and reminded Alex a little of Herod Sayle's Portuguese Man O' War. But, fortunately, the only creatures that inhabited this tank seemed to be harmless, albeit quite large goldfish. The furthest back wall consisted entirely of spotlessly clean windows that fell out onto the streets below.

A polite cough brought Alex's attention to the desk that stood in the near middle of the room. Behind it, sat Tulip Jones, and from Alex's knowledge the new head of MI6. She reached out across the desk towards a large bowl filled to the brim with peppermint sweets. Alex cringed inwardly as she plucked one from the pale and popped it in her mouth.

"Alex," She murmured around the confectionary, "I would say it's nice to see, but you would obviously say otherwise. I trust that Agent Daniels has been accommodating to your needs?" Alex's mind flashed back to last night subconsciously. "Yes, thank you." He replied formally and slightly frostily too, but Mrs Jones didn't seem to care.

"I would also like to introduce you to my new secretary, Mr Cartman." She gestured behind Alex as the man from behind the desk came into the room. Alex took more effort this time to look at the man, noting the pencil thin lips and moustache, the comb over hair, the wiry spectacles and the ghastly fluorescent pink bow tie. As if MI6 personnel couldn't get anymore bizarre… The man nodded in Alex's direction,

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Agent Rider."

"I'm not an agent." Alex snapped, his patience having not just worn thin but absolutely threadbare. "Now will someone please tell me what the hell is going on and why I'm here?"

Mr Cartman was slightly taken aback by the child's attitude, but Mrs Jones took it all in her stride, "I believe, Alex, that you have been made aware of Omega?" Alex nodded, "Tell me what you know so far."

"All I know is that everyone else seems to know about them except me. Oh, and that everywhere, and that they're stalking me. Its not often I get stalked by omnipotent criminals." Alex explained, snickering at his own joke. Mrs Jones didn't even register the humour, and continued,

"For some time, ever since your last mission is that Omega has been a surprisingly resourceful and capable bunch. We first caught them on our radar just after the arrest of Zeljan Kurst. They were slowly picking off what they could of Scorpia before it officially disbanded, buying up its shares and fronts. Now, it would seem that they have infiltrated most countries, placing operatives in all sorts of scenarios across the globe. They are doing no harm for now, but with that level of power, they could not just topple governments but whole continents." Mrs Jones stood up, walking around the desk to perch herself on its edge. Mr Cartman took it upon himself to continue,

"However, what is surprising is not that they are taking over, on the contrary. They are hiding. And they seem to have a great interest in you. But every time we try and get information, the agent we captured quite simply bursts into flames. They're more troublesome than Scorpia. Evidence is destroyed and any leads we might have been possibly able to get before are burnt to cinders. Even the Gentleman did the same. In the morgue he just ignited and took down the entire hospital. It was fortunate no one else was hurt." Mr Cartman pulled a slim remote out of his pocket and clicked a button. The windows at the far back slowly faded to black, shrouding the room in shadow. Another click and the entire wall now became an incredibly large TV screen.

"We believe Omega is operating in extremely small cells. One operative will never know if he meets another operative, and cells are kept so far apart that we doubt they could even give us any worthwhile information regarding their superiors." The screen showed what looked like a family tree. But instead of parents and children, there seemed t be only one number branching off into several other numbers. Alex assumed that this must've been a representation of the cell. The screen flickered before changing to another picture, but Alex's stomach turned when he recognised it. It was the bodies of Sabina's parents, their bodies horribly mutilated. Alex looked away, not wanting to relive the memories. "Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure murder was not to simply seek revenge against you but to instead gain our attention. The Gentleman was a professional, but for him to resort to brutal and petty knife attacks and then waiting for you and Sabina to come is extremely disconcerting. Omega paid for the attack, and we believe that their aim was to find a way of getting to you, of infiltrating your life." Mr Cartman continued, coldly ignoring Alex's pale face and look of discomfort.

It was only Ben who noticed his ward's upset, "Thank you, Gilbert, I don't want to look at corpses anymore, even if they are in HD" he spoke up, taking the brunt for Alex, who turned around and mouthed a silent thank you ,to which Ben just smiled, and nodded back towards the screen. Mrs Jones was doing the speaking now,

"…our best plan of action would just be to wait right now," She said, finally addressing Alex in person. Alex raised an eyebrow,

"That's it? No estranged mission stopping some crazed lunatic from destroying all the letter boxes in Britain. No raving madmen chasing me in sports cars wielding instruments of death? I just have to sit here and _**wait**_while some secret criminal organisation comes to potentially slaughter me in my sleep?" Ben decided to speak up again,

"It's not the best idea Alex, but with nothing to go on we haven't got much choice. All we can do right now is keeping you under protection and then wait for circumstances to develop. At the moment, we have to assess the threat that Omega poses, and finding out why they're so keen on you. Once we've done that, we can then begin to form a plan of action."

Alex sighed, not at all happy with the situation. But Ben was right, regrettably. There wasn't much anyone could do until something happened, and if MI6 was just as much in the dark as Alex then they would just have to wait.

A light knock at the door, and all four occupants turned to face a man entire. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and looked completely out of place. His hair was a fine grey, slicked back over his head and his nose was slightly crooked. He had beady eyes that reminded Alex of an owl, and his shoes squeak remarkably on the carpet as he entered the room.

"Mr Silver, how pleasant of you to join us." Mrs Jones began, holding out her hand for him to shake. He ignored said outstretched hand, and opted instead to gaze intently at Alex,

"I wasn't aware you had begun the briefing without me." He snapped, to which Alex took an instant disliking. The man was an uncanny resemblance to Alan Blunt, with the exception of the hair and tuxedo. He would even have suggested they be related had the surname been the same. "I told you I wanted to be here when the Rider boy arrived." He turned his attention back to Alex, "So you're the child prodigy, hmm? Richard Silver, head of MI5. Spot of bother you're in Rider, you just seem to attract all the creeps, eh?" he laughed heartily at his own quip, the cackle scratchy and unnatural.

"MI5 is leading an investigation into the threat Omega might be to the security of our country." Ben explained, "We've got top agents working on the case."

Mr Cartman walked over to them as Jones and Silver struck up their own conversation, completely forgetting Alex and Ben were even there. They seemed quite fixated with whatever they were talking about, and soon were becoming quite animated as the secretary ushered the spies out the door.

"I suggest you head back home, I doubt they'll notice you're even gone." Mr Cartman said, "We'll inform you of any progress we make." The pair was about to head back out of the corridor when the secretary called back "Oh, and Agent Daniels? The file you requested is on your desk. Mrs Jones gave you clearance, so just go and pick it up."

Ben turned to Alex, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Alex had never noticed how tall the man was until now; he practically towered over the teenager. Alex guessed he must've been around 6ft, and he finally was able to examine the man's face now that they were closer in the corridor,

"I really have to go and get that file," he said, heading back the other direction, running backwards, "I'll meet you down in the lobby!" he called before disappearing round the corner. Alex couldn't even protest, so he just begrudgingly made his way back to the elevator.

The trip down was just a silent, and uneventful, much like any other lift journey. Stepping out into the foyer, it was eerily quiet. The receptionist was no where to be seen, and most of the booths were closed save for a single few. Stepping out, his footsteps echoed around the large lobby, and Alex might have been worried about the lack of people had he not been far too interested in the teenager walking into the building.

The boy was the same height as Alex, dressed in a casual pair of jeans, but wore a smart shirt and tie. He also wore a black jacket that had obviously seen better days. He was carrying a heap of files under one arm, and in the other a Starbuck's coffee cup from which he tentatively sipped. He was talking quite excitedly to himself, but then Alex noticed the neatly concealed earpiece, and realised the boy was talking to someone else on the other line. A strand of hair hung down over the boy's right eye, and was dyed a bright blue. With no given name, Alex dubbed him 'Blue' simply because of nothing else remarkable about the kid. But what made him stop and think was that why another teenager was here at the Royal and General; unless, of course, Alex had jumped to some totally random and ridiculous conclusion.

Alex decided just to try and ignore the boy. He seemed quite happy to walking through a government secret agency, so why bother trying to stop him. It was, however, Blue's own clumsiness that we walked straight into Alex, spilling most his coffee down his front. Blue gasped in silent pain, and Alex hastily apologised.

"No, no. It's alright. I just spilt my Frappuccino." I said out loud, not paying heed to Alex, and was obviously talking to the person on the phone. Alex stopped, incredibly confused… Frappuccino's were cold… so why was Blue acting as though he was in pain? The boy raised his hand to his earpiece and hung up the phone after quickly saying goodbye.

"Sorry about that, didn't see you there." He said, grinning from ear to ear. Alex's jaw just hung slightly open, still reeling in shock of having thought he had burnt someone with their own coffee.

"It's Alex Rider, isn't it?" Blue asked, to which Alex nodded numbly. The teenager just laughed as he made his way over to the same elevator Alex had used. "See you around Rider-boy!" he called back, just as Ben stepped out of the lift, file in hand. A look of bemusement passed between him and Alex before the doors slid close and Blue was blocked out of sight and lifted high up into the heavens.

"Know him?" Ben asked, still bemused at Alex's expression.

"No, never met him before in all my life." Ben just smirked, and the two left he bank together.

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Arriving home, Alex could tell that something was up with Ben. He seemed to be preoccupied, and had explicitly told Alex not to look in the file, and had even locked it in the boot to prevent Alex from peeking. It had amuse Alex for a short while to pester Ben about what was in the folder, but each time the response he got was 'Classified'. Horrified that Ben was turning his own catchphrase against him, the two had argued the entire journey back about who should get royalties and who had the right to use it. It was suffice to say that Ben had put up a good fight, but under the scrutiny of Alex Rider had crumbled quickly, admitting defeat.

Although Ben didn't want Alex to know, he had secretly let the boy win. It was nice to see the normal teenager and not a cold, calculating spy.

The house was surprisingly quiet, and Alex soon became bored in his room. He had used his computer to do some research into Omega, but like MI6, he came up with nothing. So he had then tried to catch up on lost school work, but that soon became tiresome as he couldn't concentrate, and he didn't know where to begin. He figured he should ask Ben when he'd be going back to school and if he could get any extra tutoring to help him cover what he'd missed.

He trudged downstairs, not bothering to hide his descent, the footsteps falling loudly on each step as he headed to the kitchen where he found the older spy. It looked as though he was in deep concentration, staring at a raw chicken and a fillet of raw beef. Alex just there for about five minutes before deciding to announce his arrival, coughing loudly for Ben to look up alarmed.

Seeing it was Alex, his face fell back into its blank mask, taking care to hide his anxiety. But Alex was quick to catch on.

"What're you up to?" he asked innocently, peering himself at the raw meats.

"Deciding what to cook for dinner." Ben answered joining Alex in staring down at the work top. Alex was shocked, the meats were practically huge. With that kind of meat one could feed an army. Things began clicking into place. Ben. Army. SAS. K-Unit. Meal. Oh no…

"Why are they so large?" Alex asked his voice serious and wary. Ben grinned sheepishly,

"I kinda invited K-Unit over for dinner"

**I really should stop ending on dialogue. So there we go, third chapter and we're finally getting down some details. And yes, that's right: K-UNIT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER X3.**

**More questions are raised now:**

**Who is Blue?**

**What will happen with Alex and K-Unit?**

**What is everyone waiting for? **

**Your comments are brilliant, thank you all for your support!**


	4. Unit

**In response to some reviews, I have decided to keep the 'Gay relationship' down to an absolute minimum. It will be there, I'll warn you when it comes up, but other than that I'll be focusing on Alex's relationships with those around him (maybe you might see a new love interest ;) ). I hope this doesn't affect your opinion, but I like to be diverse. For now, let's just forget about it and we'll come back to it when it starts to appear in later chapters.**

**Now, with that out the way, I can continue writing! ^w^ this one is for Kahlan13 who called me awesome! I've never been called awesome before! So if you keep telling your fan fiction friends and keep reading and reviewing, I'll keep posting.**

Ben felt like he had just kicked a puppy.

A metaphorical one that is, but still the result was just the same. The look of disgust and fear that passed over Alex's face was uncanny to what he would have expected. He would have cancelled the plans, but this was his unit back from a deployment. He might not get another chance to see them again and they had been planning the get together for months.

He watched Alex slump into the sofa, making his discomfort and unhappiness clearly known to the man. The last he'd seen of K-Unit altogether in one place was back at that hellhole Brecon Beacons, and he'd only ever met Wolf once after that. Now he was expected to sit and eat with them? The notion was repulsive. Superspy Alex Rider degraded to having dinner with his least favourite good guys. He wanted to be sick.

"Oh come on Alex, it won't be that bad!" Ben called from the kitchen, as he began pulling out pots and pans. He still couldn't decide what to cook; easy chicken or roast beef? Alex grunted in response, not giving his guardian the satisfaction of a worded reply. "Alex, please. I'm not asking a lot. I swear to you, they've changed. Like you, they've been busy over the past year. Let them try to make amends and take it from there." Ben reasoned with the boy, but now he got no response. He cursed himself mentally. What had he gotten himself into? He was encouraging Alex to be a normal teenager again, yet here was being one and Ben couldn't stand it.

Ben picked up an apron and stomped out of the room and faced Alex, "Look at me." He spoke sternly. The teenager looked up, glaring daggers at the man. Ben threw the apron at his face, amused at the boy's childishness, "Put that on and you can come help me in the kitchen."

Ben went back to tend to the meat, his mind still in turmoil about which to chose.

Alex meanwhile huffed indignantly, reluctantly getting up and slipping the apron on over his head and tying it behind his back.

"Cook the beef." Alex said bluntly. Ben looked up, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, "What? Why?" he asked for clarification.

"Cook the beef. Wolf will like, the other two won't complain. It really wouldn't matter if they've only just come back; any food will taste gourmet to them. Besides, the beef is bigger and I doubt you'll manage to feed all five of us on that measly little chicken" Alex said, prodding it with a skewer so as to amuse himself.

"Beef it is then," Ben exclaimed, and soon the pair was wrapped up in cooking a meal fit for kings.

The time flew by, but Alex loved every minute of it. Ian and Jack had always encouraged him to cook for himself, helping him every now and again and he learnt pretty quickly. But cooking with Ben was fantastic. The older spy let Alex do his own thing, and kept adding numerous spices to the already chock full marinade. Alex watched on in amusement as Ben wrestled with the beef, the bowl too small for him to properly manage the task. Alex stepped in, relinquishing the exhausted man and finishing off coating the meat in the sauce. Ben thanked him, and together the two prepared the vegetables. Alex had joked that Wolf would never touch the broccoli, but Ben assured Alex that if Wolf didn't eat at least one stalk then he would ram the lot down his throat. The image of a hectic Wolf running round like a headless chicken with clumps of broccoli sticking out of his mouth made Alex laugh with Ben joining in, and soon the two were doubled over in cramps of pain from laughing to hard.

The smell of the cooking meat, the roasting vegetables and the simmering gravy was absolutely divine, and Alex let the aroma wash over him, standing back and taking a little admiration in their work. He was surprised that Ben's distraction had worked, and the man informed him that the unit would be arriving within the next couple of minutes. Heading upstairs to change, Alex prepared himself for the worst.

The worst that is, in the form of not three but _four _SAS soldiers knocking at the front door.

Ben got to the front door first, as Alex hung about on the stairs out of sight, not wanting to be seen just yet. He heard them all greet each other; a thick Scottish accent that must've belong to Snake, the cool and chipper tone of Eagle and Wolf's grunt and gravelly voice. But there was a fourth and peculiar voice that Alex couldn't recognise. He listened to their conversation as they entered the house,

"_So, what you been up to foxy?" _Alex identified Eagle, sniggering at the nickname. Ben grunted in response, which looked as though he was about to head upstairs to find the teenager from Alex's vantage point.

"_He's been running around for those pencil pushin' spies, haven't you?" _Wolf answered with a question that was more a statement of fact.

"_We are not pencil pushers, thank you very much,"_ Ben said, defending his honour, _"If you knew about our work you wouldn't be here to tell the tale."_ That got a round of chuckles, and Alex could no longer hear the men as they collectively settled into the lounge. Ben excused himself for a minute, saying he had a surprise.

Alex decided it was best to make an appearance now. Coming out into plain view, Ben turned around, taken aback by Alex's sudden appearance.

"Who's the fourth guy?" he asked, gesturing to the door that was now closed, muffled voice and laughs coming from behind it.

"I forgot to mention didn't I. Come on, its best he introduces himself." Ben said, and he led Alex into the lounge where the banter instantly ground to a halt.

The four of them sat there, dumbstruck by their youngest teammate's sudden appearance. The awkwardness was almost unbearable for Alex until Eagle decided it be best to break the silence,

"CUB!" He shouted, rather too happily for Alex's liking, "Where've you been buddy!"

"Away from you," Alex murmured, to which only Ben heard and smirked at.

"Cub, what are you doing here? Did Ben invite you or something?" Wolf asked, Snake keeping a calm look about him. The fourth man sat furthest away; he was tall yet broadly built. His hair was a dusty blonde, and he had piercing green eyes that simply scanned over Alex, taking him in.

"Not exactly," Alex timidly said, unsure of where he stood with the soldiers, "Didn't Ben tell you I was here?"

All of them shook there heads. Alex glowered back at Ben, who just split into a huge grin and waltzed off into the kitchen leaving Alex to fend for himself.

The conversation was limited at first. Eagle just kept rambling on about their escapades, Wolf grunting whenever he was required to give input, Snake adding little details. The fourth solider introduced himself as Lion, Ben's replacement, extending his hand for Alex to shake. Apparently, from Alex learnt, he wasn't bothered by the fact that kid was in the unit, but more so by the fact that the government was using a minor to do their job. Alex questioned the man about how he knew about his work, to which the man replied,

"I've seen it before." Alex was puzzled at the man's cryptic answer, but it was dropped as Ben said that the food was nearly ready and that they should get seated. The men grumbled, but ambled along into the dining room. Ben had already set the table, and despite present company, Alex felt as though it was more formal than anything else. Everyone took their respective seats, Wolf sat at the far end opposite the French doors, and Snake sat further away from Wolf, nearer to them. Eagle sat on Wolf's left hand side and Lion took a seat next to Eagle. That left no choice for Alex but to sit in between Wolf and Snake, opposite Eagle, and let Ben take the commanding chair. Ben called out to Alex to help him bring stuff in before he had chance to sit down, and Alex silently thanked whatever deity that chose to pity the helpless teen.

In the kitchen, Ben was busy ladling up dishes with vegetables and gravy. He looked over at his ward as he entered the room.

"So? Not so bad right?" Ben asked hopeful Alex felt the same. He wanted this to work between Alex and K-Unit; there had been too much animosity towards the teenager that he had barely had a chance to get to _really_ know the unit, and Ben felt strongly that Alex should have at least a good relationship with them from now on, considering the circumstances. Alex's eye-roll, however, made Ben doubt that this was going to be easy,

"Sure, if being completely alienated and feeling like you just want to shrivel up in a corner from the sheer awkwardness is good, then yeah, everything's fine and dandy" Alex's sarcastically replied.

"Oh come on, you're exaggerating and you know it."

"Ben, I have never felt so out of place in all my life. This is worse than Brecon Beacons. There I had stuff to take my mind off of them, but here," he hissed rather loudly, gesturing not just to the kitchen but the whole house, "I have to talk to them _civilly_." Ben was a little taken aback by Alex's hostility. He hadn't expected the boy to feel this bad about something, he had thought that Alex was over what had happened during training and was willing to maybe start anew. But obviously that wasn't going to happen…

"Cub, we're sorry for what happened at camp. We misjudged, and we mistreated you," Wolf said, leaning in the open doorway that led to the dining room, "But there's nothing we can do now to change the past. I'm not forcing you into forgiveness; hell, I don't even expect it. We, the unit and I, just want to apologise for all that we've done," Wolf finished his little speech, holding out his hand, "Truce?" Alex hesitated, his eyes remaining fixed on the hand in deep concentration.

"Truce," he said, finally grasping the hand. Wolf's hand was strong, but he didn't crush Alex. He didn't yank it painfully or try to squeeze the joints. It was just a gentle, warm handshake, and Alex felt the tension drain from his body. He had finally bridged the gap and gained their respect and admiration. Although he didn't know why that mattered to him, he was still left with a sense of accomplishment.

"Now, I smell beef. So hurry it up Ben, we're starving in here." Ben huffed, but started to pick up plates all the same. Together, the three of them carried in the vegetables, the gravy, the potatoes, and other assortments of delicious looking food. Wolf eyed the dish containing the broccoli and gave it a look of disdain, but Alex just smirked, a familiar image coming back into his head. Ben noticed that Alex would have the empty place between Wolf and Snake, and Wolf himself caught on. When Alex left to go fetch the warming plates, Wolf quietly asked the medic to shift up one seat to the right so that Alex could sit next to Ben. A small gesture, but they hoped Alex wouldn't bring it up. They were never good at explaining themselves sometimes. Alex came back in, blushed slightly, noting the slight change in seats, but thankfully for the soldiers didn't mention it.

Ben came back into the dining room, a huge mound of perfectly cooked beef in his oven mitts. The scent of beef and spices was mouth watering, and nothing was said as Ben carved up the meat between the six of them, making sure to cut Alex's slices a bit thinner since he was their youngest member after all. Each one of them tucked into the meal, savouring their first bites of the succulent beef, they passed and shared around the other dishes and soon began conversation in which everyone could participate in.

"What are your names, by the way," Alex started after taking a gulp of water to wash some food down, "I mean, I know Ben is Fox, but what about you guys? Or aren't you allowed to tell me?" Wolf chuckled a little, "No we can tell you now we're aren't at camp. I'm Tristan Alvarez."

"I'm Jones, Marcus Jones," Eagle piped up, putting on a mock sultry accent and forming a finger gun with one hand. Lion shook his head, bemused by Eagle's antics,

"Darren Walters," he stated, before popping a broccoli stalk into his mouth.

"My name's Sullivan McDonald" Snake said, puffing up his chest, clearly proud of his patriotic heritage.

"What about you Cub?" Lion asked unaware that K-Unit did actually know Alex's name, "Fair's fair. We told you ours now you tell us yours"

"Alex Rider"

Lion nearly choked on his food, "Alex Rider? _The_ Alex Rider! Bloody hell fox, why do you have MI6's top ranking agent in your house?" How did Lion know about Alex? The conversation before, he had said he'd seen somebody like him before… Could he be working for MI6 or something?

"It's for his own protection, and he isn't an agent anymore for your knowledge!" Ben spluttered, trying to save himself from the scrutiny. Lion just let his jaw hang open, glancing between the two spies.

"Bloody hell, you weren't lying when you said he was a secret agent, but _Alex Rider_?" Lion exclaimed at Wolf, still shock much to Alex's displeasure. Wolf shrugged nonchalantly, wiping his hand with a conveniently placed napkin. "Alex, I have to say, you're a bit of a legend!" Lion said, face smiling in glee. The teen looked to Ben and the rest of K-Unit for an explanation,

"Lion here did some side work for MI6, before he joined the SAS. Worked with me a couple of times I think." Ben explained, taking a sip at his beer.

"Damn," Lion said, slumping back in his chair, "You always get the freaky teenagers?" He asked in general to the rest of the unit.

"Wait, what do you by 'teenagers' in the plural?" Alex asked, picking up on Lion's epiphany. He looked about, namely at Ben,

"Didn't you know? We had another kid placed in our unit. Sergeant said that we had experience with dealing with them." Wolf explained, taking the liberty to fill in any blanks that Alex might have about the unit, "Pup, his name was."

"Pup?" Alex asked engrossed in this revelation, "You didn't treat like how you treated me, did you?"

Wolf looked away sheepishly. Eagle and Lion snickered, "Of course he did," they explained in turn "Although, to be fair, this was honestly just snot nosed brat whose rich mummy sent him to the camp to learn about real men; admitted it himself." Eagle took his chance to speak, "But we were wary, see 'cause we've seen you, and we've dealt with you, so we know that a random teenager wouldn't just get sent to an SAS camp, so we toned it down a little." Snake chortled, "Still, it was funny watching him hang helplessly on that zip-wire."

"Yeah, right up until the point where the kid pulled himself up like some flippin' trapeze artist and walked the rest of the way down; that kid was creepy; both arrogant and capable. He had this freakish hair as well, dyed some stupid colour, and he acted as though he knew everything and walked around the place like he could take care of himself." Wolf added, serious all of a sudden, "I'm telling you; he had to be secret service, no other explanation. Either that or he was an incredibly talented circus performer."

The entire table laughed at that, and Alex tried to push the thoughts away of the new elusive team member _Pup_, but he couldn't shake the thoughts.

'Another teenager like me?' Alex thought, but he carried on with the conversation, allowing himself to fall into the pleasant yet lax ambience with newly acquainted friends.

"Come on Wolf! You've hardly touched those broccolis of yours." Lion shouted rambunctiously. Wolf growled threateningly, but the table once again fell into rich laughter.

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K-Unit stayed around for a while. During the entire meal, Wolf's girlfriendwas calling him, demanding to know where he was,

"She's been calling him every ten minutes since we got back from Iraq." Eagle chimed, sniggering at Wolf's obvious embarrassment. Alex would very much like to meet the woman who was capable of standing up against the infamous Wolf, but he reckoned he would leave that for another day. Right now, he was trying to escape Eagle's constant pestering,

"Come on, just tell me about one little mission,"

"No."

"_Please! _Just one then I'll leave you alone, promise!"

Alex sighed, "Promise?" Eagle nodded his a little too enthusiastically,

"No."

"Oh but Alex, you're no fair. You and Ben get to have all the cool missions as spies, and all we do is sit in a sweaty desert nearly all year round… Why can't you two _ever_ tell us anything?"

Alex and Ben looked at each other, a knowing look passing between the two spies. Turning back to face Eagle, they spoke in unison, "Classified"

Lion erupted into laughter, Wolf smirked, and Snake just gave a sigh of exasperation,

"Eagle," he started, "You'll never get anything out of those two, you do realise that?"

"It was worth a try," he said slumping in his seat. Ben glanced at his watch, eyes bugging in alarm,

"Alex, you had better get to bed, it's gone eleven o'clock, and you've got school tomorrow!"

"I have?" Alex asked, bewildered.

"Yep, I registered you at your old school, Brooklands. Figured familiarity would be best, catch up with old friends and stuff." Ben said, once again herding Alex out of the dining room, "Go on, go to bed and I'll check up on you in a couple of minutes." Alex flushed at the parenting Ben was displaying, and was just leaving when the entire of K-Unit had to add to the embarrassment by all wishing him goodnight,

"Night Cub," Wolf softly said as he left, with Eagles, Lion and Snake all joining in.

"Night," Alex mumbled back before fleeing up the stairs and out of sight.

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K-Unit left shortly after, they had arrived by cab, and when the taxi came to pick them back up, they bid farewell to Ben, and said they'd see him soon hopefully. Ben looked forward to that as he waved them off; they'd made leaps and bounds with Alex tonight, who had, in Ben's opinion, finally lowered some of his barriers at long last.

He closed the door softly, and looked at the immaculate table. Despite their appearance, K-Unit was always polite and cleanly when at other's houses. After Alex had left to go to bed, they had offered to help clear the table and wash the dishes, claiming that since Alex and he had cooked it was the least they could do. He was proud to be part of that unit, just as Alex should be thankful he now has people he can somewhat rely upon.

He strode up the stairs quietly, not wanting to stir Alex. He hoped the kid would be alright with going back to school tomorrow, it was quite the bombshell to have suddenly dropped tonight and ben knew that wasn't fair. He should have told him sooner, or kept him back a day or two just to settle some more. He'd make it up to the boy, one way or the other.

He starting getting himself ready for bed, pulling out the file he had received earlier today as he idly brushed his teeth. He hadn't wanted Alex to look at the file because it was _his_ file. Since the whole charade with Omega had begun he hadn't had the chance to fully read it yet, and hoped to have that chance tomorrow with Alex out of the house at school. He slipped it back into the draw of his bedside cabinet, and walked back into his en suite and rinsed his mouth. He examined his face for a moment, his hand scratching at his trademark stubble. He had faint bags under his eyes, but they were nothing he couldn't cope with. His mind wandered from the subject of sleep to Alex's nightmare the night before. Ben had never seen a child have such a horrible reaction to a dream before, and was deeply concerned for the kid's welfare.

Deciding it'd be best to check up on Alex before going to bed himself, he walked across the landing and gingerly creaked open his door. His heart swelled with joy as he saw Alex's sleeping form resting peacefully, his face turned towards the door. No nightmares, no convulsions, just the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Ben crept over to him, his bare feet silently stepping on the thick carpet underneath. He brushed a stray lock of golden blonde hair out of the boy's face and pulled the covers further over Alex's body. His fingers lightly traced the boys cheek, smiling as he thought about what the boy could possibly dreaming about with that grin on his face.

"Sweet dreams, Alex" He spoke softly before getting up and swiftly and quietly leaving, and closing the door shut behind him.

Things were looking up after all.

**Argh! You know what happens when you hear those words? Something bad is lurking because I've jinxed it now! XD**

**Your comments are fantastic, and I truly mean that. And just for those who want a recap, here is my version of the names for K-Unit. **

**Wolf – Tristan Alvarez (He's Spanish btw)**

**Snake – Sullivan McDonald**

**Eagle – Marcus Jones**

**Lion (OC) – Darren Walters**

**I haven't got their ages sorted out yet, but that doesn't really matter. And yay for more mysteries wrapped in enigmas. I swear, I will start revealing some of them soon, just be patient with me.**

**Thanks again – K9**


	5. School

**Thank you to all who keep reviewing, both the regulars and the one time reviewers. I'm happy hat you're happy reading this ^_^ I was also rereading over some of the chapters, and I've noticed I've missed out a few words. Sorry for that, but I'm typing super fast whilst thinking ahead at the same time. That and my lack of sleep…**

**Answers to question that weren't necessarily asked, but I felt like I should give at least some response:**

**ObsessivelyOdd – Terrified? What of? And the Blue hair was supposed to be a simple characteristic from which Alex can name unknown individuals, like he does in the books like Skoda or Steel Watch or Spectacles. He wasn't supposed to come across as an attachment to me.**

**Fanficitonaddict1 – Rest assured, Alex will get back into the swing of things. Just imagine the scenario as like reading a book, only to then leave it for ages until coming back to read it. You'll have forgotten certain parts, but once you remember the storyline everything comes flooding back.**

**Anyway, if you have anymore questions or issues with the story, just let me know and I'll either clarify it or rectify the plot. For now, it's time for school:-**

Alex was feeling refreshed and revitalised, and although he didn't like to admit it, he had felt much better than he had done in the past few months. He cringed at the thought of Sabina, but she had made her choice and he respected that. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt.

His mind began to wander to the night. He had slept soundly, no nightmare decided to torment meant him, and instead he dreamt peacefully. He was pretty sure that someone had come into his room last night; he had felt something brush against his face. The warm touch had relaxed him a little in all honesty, though he wouldn't like to admit that either. The nagging feeling that he was becoming to lax in his guard kept snapping at his heels, but he tried to push those thoughts away. Edward had always said that Alex should be more, to let down the walls and open up some more, but when you've been betrayed and blackmailed by your own government, it's very hard to start trusting again.

Ben had taken the liberty of buying Alex some new school clothes. Earlier this morning when he had come to wake Alex up, pulling apart the curtains to reveal the drowsy teen stirring in bed, he had told him he left the uniform on his desk for him, and sure enough there it was. Alex let his hand run over the familiar fabric and design, relishing in the fact that going back to school might not be so daunting. He was glad that he didn't have another school to go to where he would have to explain the countless scars, the poor attendance record and the severe drop in grades. At least with Brooklands he could just step back in and resume his role as the class 'imaginary' druggie. He might even see Tom, but he doubted it. Tom had confided in Alex that when his parents go through with the divorce, then he would pack his bags and take his brother up on his invitation to stay with him in Naples. When Alex had left for America, he didn't have a chance to properly say goodbye to his friend, and it still upset him to this day that they couldn't have parted on better terms.

He wandered down the landing and into the large bathroom, happy that Ben had such a great shower. He'd only used it twice so far, but teach time the warm jets came into contact with his skin, it instantly soothed his scars and washed his troubles away, if only for a moment. Stripping down and stepping in, he sighed in contentment as the relaxing water softly splashed against him. Alex wondered whether Ben had bought this shower for the seemingly magical properties it had on scars and wounds, or whether it was just pure coincidence. Come to think of it, he had no idea if Ben had any scars or not. He would've assumed so, with him being an ex-SAS soldier turned spy but he simply had no idea. In fact, he _knew_ ben had at least one scar, from when he was shot by Winston Yu on Dragon Nine. Alex sighed, turning the shower of and towelling himself dry, pushing the thoughts of what happened that day instantly out of his mind. He wrapped the towel and round his waist and examined himself in the full length mirror. There was an ugly red welt where he had been recently stabbed, but the wound was healing nicely and he had had the stiches removed prior to leaving the hospital, as well as the stitches in his hand. They were just another couple scars to add to the intricate map of fine scars that littered his body, constant reminders of days gone by. His hand traced the puffy edges of the gunshot scar on his chest. Over the months, with the lack of exertion, it had managed to heal much more quickly than when Alex had been forced on missions. But it was still a little raw, and the doctors had told him that it would probably hurt from time to time, and may become inflamed occasionally. Alex had taken it in his stride, Wolf's words echoing from the night before: _'there's nothing we can do now to change the past'_. He saw no point he breaking down and getting all emotional from a simple scar. He had a live to rebuild and lead.

Alex went back to his room, and dressed quickly. He didn't want to be late on his first day back at school, even if he had been a previous student. He still had his bag to pack, and a lunch to prepare if he was to avoid the torture of canteen food; more things just adding to the list.

He leapt down the stairs two at a time, straightening out his shirt (which had been left typically untucked and top button uncannily undone) he headed in the direction of the kitchen. Ben was already up, still dressed in his dark crimson pyjamas, reading the morning newspaper with a bright red coffee mug in hand, emblazed with the SAS motto in smudged paint.

"Morning," Ben said nodding his head as Alex entered, taking a gulp of the liquid.

"Morning," Alex replied out of habit, sluggishly rubbing the remnants of sleep out of his eye. He was about to head into the kitchen when Ben questioned him,

"What are you doing?" He asked, sporting a bewildered frown.

"Getting breakfast… what else?" he responded, incredulously. It was what he was used to. Sabina's parents had always been somewhat lax when it came to mornings. It was often up to the younger teenagers to wake themselves up and get them sorted and off to school. They worked pretty much from home, and so lie-ins were a blessed perk on their behalf. He was slightly surprised to see that Ben had already prepared breakfast for the teen. Ben gestured to the bowl already full of cereal, the rack full of warm, buttery toast and the glass of orange juice already poured out and waiting for Alex to dig in. Tantalising as it was, Alex was unsure. Ben was showing a great aptitude for helping the teen out a lot recently, and not only that but he had once again put his research to good use and found out what Alex would usually have for breakfast.

"Go on. It's for you." Ben said, gesturing towards the laid out food. Alex sat down, thanking the man before pouring a large helping of milk over the cornflakes and taking a sip at the orange juice. Yet another astonishing surprise, it was fresh, just how Alex liked it, and he spied the orange remains behind Ben on the far counter. He had once again taken the effort to make Alex comfortable, and the effort was not wasted. Alex made a mental note to try and talk to Ben and make an attempt on his own behalf to get to know the man, beside the military aspect of him.

Ben left to go get dressed, leaving Alex to finish of his breakfast. He spent a couple of minutes wolfing down the cereal, keen to keep his eye on the time. Swallowing the last dregs if orange, he took his bowl and glass and placed them in the sink. He headed back out into the hallway where Ben was, dressed neatly as ever, stuffing what looked like a plastic box into a rucksack. Alex raised an eyebrow, awaiting yet another surprise.

"Here," Ben said, finally zipping up the bag and handing it to Alex, "You're lunch is in there as well as your school equipment." Alex took the bag, trying to stutter out a reply. Ben really had thought of everything, hadn't he? Ben threw a pair of keys at Alex, "These are for the front door and back doors. The larger silver one is the front. Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I transferred by phone numbers into your phone for you, and I've got yours so not to worry."

Ben pulled out his keys from his jacket pocket, and opened the front door for Alex, "Come on, I'll drive you there; bodyguard policy."

Alex would have fainted then and there from sheer amazement at Ben's thoughtful consideration had it not been for the heavy hand that landed on his shoulder and pushed him gently out the door.

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Alex sat twiddling his thumbs whilst Ben sorted everything out with the new receptionist, Miss Critter. Unusual name, but Alex had honestly heard worse, like Mr Grin or Nadia Vole. They had been on his first mission, the very one where his life had gone spiralling out of control. He'd save thousands of schoolchildren that day, up and down the country and here he was now, preparing himself to meet them when they had no idea of what he had done.

Ben bid his goodbye to the receptionist once everything had been sorted out, and handed Alex his schedule,

"I'll see you later. I won't be able to pick you up, but I roped one of the guys last night to do the honours. Just keep an eye out, okay?" And with that, he left, leaving Alex standing rather gormlessly in the hall. He was just about to head off to class when he suddenly heard a shriek behind him,

"Wait! It's alright! I'm here!" A girl, slightly shorter than Alex appeared bursting through the entrance doors, "I know, I'm late, but Dad was out last night so I had to take the subway, then the traffic was appalling and _then_ I run unto one of Dad's friends." She gave a huff, taking in a breath.

"There is no traffic on a subway," Alex pointed out, bemused at the girl's state. She glared at him, stuttering to think of a potential comeback, but chose to remain silent, muttering about boys and their simple minds. Alex just smirked, having known he'd been right.

"Miss McDonald, that is the seventeenth time you have been late this term," Miss Critter scolded, but the girl paid no attention to her. Instead, she swivelled on her heels to face Alex once more,

"You're the new kid, aren't you?" She asked flicking a curl of brown hair out of her face, exposing her dark blue eyes. Alex was stunned by her beauty, her face lean yet attractive, "Yeah, I guess" He stammered.

"Great!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him out of the receptionist's office, "You're in my class! No need to worry, Miss Critter, I'll sort him out!" she called back, not bothering to check if the woman heard or not. Alex couldn't help but notice the light Scottish accent she had. With sudden realisation, he yanked his hand out of her grasp halfway down the corridor,

"Does your Dad happen to be in the SAS, code named Snake, full name Sullivan McDonald?" he asked, eyes watching carefully for her reaction.

"Yeah… why do you ask?" she responded hesitantly,

"Oh, no reason…" Alex replied indifferently. Inwardly, however, he was cursing himself for falling for his comrade's daughter. Why did he have to have a thing for foreign girls? The girl looked at him sceptically,

"What's your name, new kid?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Alex Rider. Yours?"

"Eleanor McDonald," her hands didn't budge, and her expression remained just as wary, "Age?"

"Fifteen, what is this, an interrogation?" he sarcastically replied, unhappy about being In the spotlight of her scrutiny.

"Birthday?"

"January the 13th," he said, now just as wary, but he needn't be, as she let out a squeal of joy,

"Yes! I'm exactly two months older. I just love younger guys, especially when their cute," she leant in close next to his ear and whispered seductively, "_They tend to last a lot longer._" She smiled, and then began to walk of, swaying her hips. It took Alex a moment to recover before calling out after her,

"I am _**not **_cute!"

She laughed, and the two talked with one another, mostly flirting. Alex had fun on the way to registration, Eleanor, or Ella as she liked to be called was much like Sabina; she was older, into being active and just as flirtatious. Despite having met for only a couple of minutes, Alex was warming to her personality. She was bubbly, cheerful and shared Alex's sharp wit. The two were laughing in hysterics when they finally came to their classroom.

"Ladies first," Alex smiled, offering her the door. She just smiled back before pulling him around and pushing him tumbling through the door. The act disgruntled Alex, but the silent classroom and glaring eyes of the teacher prevented Alex was pressing the matter. He hastily pulled himself up and dusted himself down, Ella coming in to stand next to Alex feigning innocence in the whole affairs.

"You're late, Miss McDonald, take your seat," the teacher commanded; a middle-aged man with a gut and tweed jacket, "And you, Mr Rider. What a privilege it is to have your company! To what do we owe the honour?" Mr Hatchet asked, his tone oozing with venom. The balding man had never liked Alex, more so after his unexplained absences from school. If anyone could've guessed what Alex was really up to, it would have been him.

"Recently moved back from America, sir," Alex explained, keeping to the story that MI6 had crafted for him, "Doctor's say that my immune system is getting healthier and I'm less prone to disease now."

The teacher grumbled, "Very well then. You'd better reintroduce yourself for those who have not had the pleasure of meeting you yet."

Alex turned to the class, his gaze scanning the pupils before him. His attention was drawn to one boy in particular at the back, whose arm was lazily draped behind another girl's back. The boy was staring right at Alex, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Hi, I'm Alex, and you know that I'm back from an extended stay with _family,_" It took some effort to grind the last word out, knowing full well that he had none, just as everybody else did, "I've recently been suffering from long-term illnesses, but now I'm healthy again and I'm here to stay." He winced at that part. He didn't know for sure whether he was indeed her to stay, all he knew was that living with Ben was indefinite, "I like extreme sports, foreign and older women," he saw Ella wink from her seat near to the back, "and I most certainly do **not** take drugs."

The bell rang just as Alex had finished, signalling the official start of the school day. Students began to pack stuff away and a mighty clamour started up from chairs scraping the floor and the droning of pupil's voices of the noise. Mr Hatchet began yelling out instructions to head to class quickly and not to dawdle. The man pushed his way past Alex, not bothering to apologise as he shoved his way out the door, folder tuck under one stubby arm.

Alex felt himself pulled along by the stream of students, and caught a second glimpse of the boy he had seen at the back of class. There was no mistaking it now. He knew that boy.

It was Tom Harris.

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Alex's first lesson he managed to get that coincided with Tom's was mathematics. Today, Mr Donovan, who was still teaching at the school, was helping the class to revise algebra. Alex remembered the time before his spying days, and the day after his uncle's death he had been asked the open the window and made a careless blunder of answering the question instead. Alex couldn't get a seat near Tom, but the boy proved improvisational. No sooner than a few minutes into the class, a small paper note passed to him. It read:

Meet up at lunch. Outside, behind the bike shed.

"Alex?" Alex looked up from the note, a sense of déjà vu washing over him. Once again all the pupils were staring at him,

"You wanted the window open, sir?" Alex asked sheepishly. The teacher just chuckled, repeating the question once again for Alex's benefit.

It was only a little later, when finally the school allowed the pupil's to run havoc for a hour at noon, that Alex made his way over to the bike shed, which was still standing much to his amazement. Round the back, sure enough, there was Tom, true to his word.

He approached Alex and punched Alex, before he could even react,

"I took a bullet for you, you arsehole. A flippin' _bullet_! And what do you do? Go off and gallivant around saving the world before disappearing for bloody god knows how long, only to turn right out of the blue!"

Alex was about to swear many colourful profanities at the boy before he felt himself pulled into a tight hug.

"I thought you'd been killed..." He murmured into Alex's shoulder. His friend pulled back, eyes red and raw looking. Alex had only ever seen Tom like this twice before; once when he was unceremoniously attacked in his nether region, and again when his goldfish, Mr Kibbles, died.

"Yeah, well, here I am, alive and maybe not so well." Alex replied subdued by Tom's outburst. He deserved the punch. He had abandoned his friend, never once calling or writing to him when he needed him most. The two stood in silence for a moment before Tom started chuckling. It was infectious, and Alex began to feel himself soon laughing along with Tom. Nothing was funny. It was entirely the opposite, but still they laughed at the relief of seeing one another again safe and sound.

"What happened to you?" Tom asked, softly probing his friend for details,

"MI6 happened. Jack and I got roped up into another mission. Then, everything went to hell. We got captured, I directly _killed_ someone Tom," Alex explained softly, "She's gone. I killed her Tom, I killed Jack" Alex began to feel his eyes water a little at the confession, but Tom put his arm around his friend,

"I'm so sorry. How'd it happen?"

"Remember when I told you about my second mission? The one where I had a clone; well it turns out the clone wasn't so dead after the fire. He got hired by Scorpia to exact revenge upon me. We got captured, and Jack tried to make a run for it, stole one of the cars, but it was rigged and they tortured me by making me watch the clone detonate the bomb. I couldn't do anything to save her and it's all my fault." Tom put a comforting arm around Alex's shoulder,

"No it wasn't and don't ever think that again for a second. Those monsters, be it MI6 or Scorpia, they were the ones that killed Jack, not you. You could never do something like that to someone you love. I know you Alex, and despite your untimely disappearance, I haven't forgotten what you're like." Alex gave Tom a small smile,

"By the way, what about you? Last I heard was that the divorce was becoming _really_ messy, like full blown fights and separation kind of messy."

"Dad's gone now. He's resorted to gambling whilst Mum's drowning her sorrows in alcohol. I can't trust either of them now with money anymore, so I'm practically juggling both they're finances whilst making sure I stay fed, clothed and sheltered all at the same time. It's like living in a hellhole. Just a few more years and then I'll be free though." Tom growled, pulling his arm away to tug at his sleeves.

"But I thought you were going to go live with Jerry, in Naples remember?" Alex asked, confusion clouding his voice. Tom laughed coldly,

"Sure, that was if that back-stabbing, good-for-nothing traitor of a brother hadn't of pulled out on me at the least second. He got engaged to his pregnant girlfriend just before the divorce was pushed through. Now he wants practically nothing to do with me. I got abandoned by everyone, Alex. Mum, Dad, Jerry… You…"

"I'm sorry Tom," Alex answered sincerely, "Seems like both of our lives a pretty messed up, huh?" The boy nodded his head in silent agreement. The two sat solemnly together, backs leant up against the shed wall, neither saying a word as the general drone of teenagers screaming and talking surrounded them. Alex caught the faintest hint of a muffled voice, and rose to his feet, putting a finger to his lips so as to keep Tom quiet.

He crept towards the edge, body held flat against the battered shed. He heard it again, a murmur of not one but two voices. Jumping out from behind the shed, he was already subconsciously assuming a natural fighting stance. But instead of being face with two thugs ready to pulverize Alex or kidnap him to some evil dungeon, he was faced with two incredibly startled schoolgirls, who had indignantly yelped and fallen backwards upon their surprise. Tom joined Alex, and stared down at the girls,

"Mel? Ella? What are you guy's doing?"

"Who, us?" Ella asked, feigning innocence, "We're just admiring the fine workmanship of this concrete that so helpfully broke our fall." Ella smiled coyly at Alex as he offered his hand to help her up, whilst Tom tended to the other girl. She dusted herself down straightening out her uniform. Alex looked to the other girl, recognising her immediately. Her straight black hair was cut short, just below her jawline, and her hazel eyes were protected by a pair of small, rectangular spectacles which were perched on the bridge of her nose. It was the same girl who had sat with Tom at the back of the class this morning, Alex's mind fleetingly remembering Tom having his arm draped lazily around her shoulder, and it took less than no time to figure out her relation to Tom. As though to prove Alex's point, Tom pecked the girl with a quick kiss on the cheek. Alex had never known anyone who could turn to _that_ shade of red _that_ quickly.

"Alex, this is... um… this is Mel. Melissa, I mean. But we call her Mel." Tom stammered, making a hasty introduction, seemingly just as embarrassed as the gilr was. His hand had already snaked its way across her back and was resting on her far shoulder, but she seemed completely at ease with it, "Mel, this is Alex, the guy I've told you about." Alarm bells began ringing when Tom uttered those words,

"So you're Alex Rider, teenage extraordinaire?" she smiled.

"You told her about me?" Alex asked through gritted teeth, anger flashing inside him. He had trusted Tom with his secret and he'd gone flaunting it around to simple girlfriends?

"Well, yeah… kind of?" Tom said, sheepishly. Mel just gave an irritated groan, "Not kind of. That was your chat up line."

Alex had to laugh at that, the rage seeping away. Of course Tom wouldn't betray him; it wasn't like anyone would believe him anyway. He could imagine it now, 'Hi, I'm friends with a teenager superspy, what's your name?'

"Didn't believe him at first, but he was insistent. He eventually got me proof, showed me one of your gadgets that had apparently been left behind and from then I couldn't wait to meet you." She continued, "He's always been defending you Alex, even when I thought he was just being stupid. Tom holds you in pretty high regard." Tom just scratched the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact with Alex.

"Well, this is nice isn't it?" Ella asked her voice chipper despite the sarcasm. The trio turned to look at her dumbfounded, "Forget me, did you?" Her arms were crossed and she fixed each one of them with a stare.

"I must say, I'm flattered that's it's already the first day of having met you and within mere hours you're stalking me. New personal record," Alex flirted; having had time to get used the girl's antics. But Ella was unperturbed by Alex, "You wish, spy boy," Alex winced. It seems his secret was leaking out in all directions. He wouldn't be surprised if the whole school would know by tomorrow.

"So then you know?" he asked, fearing the worst. She sighed, her expression softening,

"It wasn't hard to make the connections. I've overheard rumours from Dad, about some top ranking spy who was barely a kid. Last night he practically confirmed it, I just didn't realise when you told me your name. When I was listening in, he mentioned your name. A lot." She prodded his chest to emphasise the point, "So I decided to follow you, saw you heading out to the bike shed and lo and behold, I overhear you talking about it all. Melissa was just here by chance looking for Tom."

Alex shot a pleading look at her, "Please don't tell anyone." He hated whining, but like with his entire life at the moment, he had no other choice. He wouldn't dare set MI6 on her. Firstly, he liked but secondly and most importantly of all, Snake would kill him. She seemed to hesitate, and Alex feared for a moment that he had been a bad judge of character.

"Of course, but only on one condition," she spoke up, after a while of mental deliberation. Alex gestured for her to continue,

"You have to take me out on a date."

Alex laughed, but agreed all the same, and the four stayed together all throughout lunch, making idle chit-chat about anything and everything. Alex found that Tom hadn't changed much, he was still a flout in class, but since Alex had left he had become the school's star player. Melissa was perky, and found that she often relished in Tom's pranks where others would cringe and back away slowly. Eleanor had been quite ostentatious when talking with Alex, but she easily fitted in with the newly formed band of friends. Alex had asked whether she had other friends that she might want to introduce, she had dismissed bluntly under the pretence that they could hardly be called friends.

Time passed, and the group were heading back to register for afternoon lessons when something caught Alex's attention. He wouldn't have noticed it had he not been looking in that exact direction, but through the mass of heads and bustling bodies he made out the tiniest fleck of blue hair.

He pulled away from his friends, his curiosity overriding his common sense. He negotiated his way through the thick wall of students, trying to keep up with his target. Another dash of blue and Alex doubled his efforts. It couldn't have been the same person, surely. He finally broke out into a clearing in the hall, but there were too many corridors. He could have gone anywhere. He growled out loud, mainly to himself for letting to chance to learn more slip through his fingers.

"Lost someone, Rider-boy?"

Alex whirled around only to be faced with Blue, the same boy from the bank. The teen had a smirk plastered across his face, his arms folded over his chest. What was he doing at Brooklands? Alex supposed it wouldn't be too farfetched to assume that maybe Blue was just another teenager, and that just so happened to coincidentally attend the same school as Alex. But he never liked coincidences, and Alex, learning again what the world of espionage expected from him, was all too wary of the boy.

Voices called out from down the hall, presumably Tom's. Without having a chance to ask Blue anything, he was already leaving, briskly evacuating the hall,

"Auf Wiedersehen Rider!" he called back over his shoulder as he jogged down a corridor and back out of Alex's life again. He stood there, blank mask slipping into place. Instinct was telling him that wasn't the last he'd be seeing of the enigmatic teen. Tom rounded the corner, panting to Alex that he should warn him next time when he was about to do a runner. Reluctantly, Alex left with Tom to head back to registration, but the thoughts of Blue kept reeling in his mind.

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As pupils poured out of the school doors, Alex and Tom made their way slowly down the steps. They paced themselves, savouring every moment they could talk to one another. Sure, Tom could text or visit Alex now that he had his new number and address, but it wasn't the same. Seeing Tom and talking to him in person felt much better than some tacky mobile screen and Alex was too sure where ben stood when it came to having friends round, and presumed that it would be an unwise idea, considering the lingering threat of Omega.

Tom had listened in rapture as Alex had detailed the events to how he was back in Britain. He was apologetic when he heard about Sabina's parents, but he found the entire notion of an intimidating and threatening criminal organisation to be quite elating. It was typical of Tom to always see things in a much brighter perspective than Alex, but then again, Alex had learnt that expecting too much from the world often landed you in danger. He rarely remained hopeful anymore, hope was something that almost always let Alex down, and he'd been left to survive by impossible luck.

Tom made a quick goodbye, making sure to stress to Alex that they would keep in touch and that he'd see him tomorrow. Alex watched his retreating form as he walked away along the pavement, losing him in the steady stream of students. Alex sighed, still waiting for whichever member of K-Unit hat had been dragged in Alex's domesticated life to give him a ride home. Not even the girls were here, having had to stay behind for gymnastics practise for an upcoming performance that Alex wasn't yet aware of. With his train of thought still on the girls, his began to think about Ella, and her blunt request of a date. Alex wasn't sure whether something could work between the two of them, having known her father from the SAS hardly helped. He wondered if Snake would oppose a relationship between him and Ella, although he strongly doubted that would stop the strong minded teen. She had taken quite a liking to Alex, something Tom had so brusquely pointed out, coaxing him to go through with the date. He had told him he'd thin about it, but after what happened with Sabina, he wasn't so positive. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt because of him, and Snake would most definitely murder him.

Brutally.

With a scalpel.

He shuddered at the thought of an angry Snake, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the medic's fury. Hell, maybe even Snake was coming to pick him up from school.

No sooner had the thought entered Alex's head, when a black sedan pulled up, the windows tinted so as to hide the driver and occupants from the outside world. Ben must've gone over the top with protection, but couldn't care less. He made his way over to the car as the window rolled down, but it wasn't Snake who was driving.

It wasn't anyone from K-Unit at all. Alan Blunt was sitting behind the wheel, one hand clenched tightly around the leather handles with his knuckles white, and the other hand holding a gun.

A gun pointed at Alex,

"Get in, Agent Rider."

**So, what do you think; Tom, Blunt and a possible new love interest?**

**I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas for the story, some of them really help me to develop the characters better and evolve the plot line. I pretty sure I know where I'm gonna go with this now, but I'm still sorting out kinks, such as how long I should **_**really**_** make it, and for how long I'm gonna drag out all this enigmas. **

**Next chapter will herald some strange surprises, and with Alex at gunpoint by Blunt, what's going to happen now?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading – K9 **


	6. Blunt

**I put a lot of effort into this one; I made sure to be detailed and thorough. We have here a big confrontation here between Blunt and Alex. Hope you've been looking forward to it, and that I've delivered:-**

_Alan Blunt was sitting behind the wheel, one hand clenched tightly around the leather handles with his knuckles white, and the other hand holding a gun._

_A gun pointed at Alex,_

_"Get in, Agent Rider."_

Alex calmly and without any hint of emotion opened the back door and slipped inside, barely making a sound. He didn't even care to acknowledge the man that had destroyed his life as the car pulled away, out into traffic. The sedan was finely furbished, Alex having identified it as one of Blunt's own personal collection of automobiles. The leather upholstery was light cream colour, and smelt of acrid tobacco. Alex had never taken Blunt to be a smoking man, but he had noticed the man's more weathered look in the rear view mirror.

His face was more haggard, the wrinkles heavily defined and creasing all along the sides of his face. The eyes and gums were slightly sunken, and Alan's once well kept hair was now dishevelled and silver. Alex could make out clumps of where hair had fallen out with age. Retirement for Blunt was obviously doing him no favours, and Alex laughed inwardly at the bittersweet irony. Espionage always got to you, no matter whether you turned your back on it. For once, he and his former employer had something in common, but Alex held no sympathy for the man. He didn't deserve an easy way out, and Alex took some comfort in knowing that the man was still troubled by his past.

The car journey had so far been silent, the only sound made was by Blunt's wheezing breaths. Alex didn't want to give the satisfaction to the man by starting the conversation. He was sure the ex-director could possibly have a multitude of reasons as to why he's kidnapped him, but whichever he chose to go with at the end of the day wouldn't matter to Alex. He'd escape, just like he had always done all those years on missions when MI6 had abandoned him, leaving him at the merciful hands of his captors. They passed through streets, the buildings forming into one blur of grey, reflecting the mood inside. Alex tried to keep tabs on where he was going, but doubted they would leave the general vicinity of London. So he leant back, and waited for his moment to make a prompt exit.

Blunt's black eyes flicked to look at Alex in the mirror, but instead of shying away out of his distaste for the man, he held the gaze. He wasn't going to let him intimidate him now, not now that he was nothing more than a decrepit pensioner. He wanted Blunt to know he wasn't afraid anymore, and he put as much effort as he could into conveying the same feeling of contempt into his emotionless stare, despite how impossible it may seem.

"I suppose you want to know why I'm here," Blunt said after a while. His voice was cracked, the sound caching in his throat and reverberating unnaturally. It reminded Alex of a broken vinyl record, or nails down a chalkboard. It was amazing how Blunt was slowly degrading into a monster that every aspect Alex despised.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Alex replied, his tone dull and clear. If Blunt was going to drag him kicking and screaming back into the world of espionage, then the least Alex could do is be to make it difficult as possible. Blunt wanted him to be a spy then he would act like one. He cringed to himself, a sudden thought at how infantile that sounded. Blunt let Alex's words hang in the air, refusing to address them properly,

"We need to talk Alex." The teenager gave a loud snort as his only response. He watched as Blunt manoeuvred the car through narrow, sidewinding alleys before they came to an abrupt halt. They were outside a park, the greenery enclosed in wrought iron railings, giving both a menacing yet tranquil impression. Alex had often come to parks such as these when he was younger, when Ian had had the time. It was one of the very few fond memories he had of the man.

"Get out." Blunt said, well, bluntly. He was clearly not very learned in the etiquette of kidnapping, and Alex was a little disappointed that he hadn't put much effort into this whole fiasco. Alex refused, testing the waters to see how far he could push the man. Sensing Alex's new found bravado, he threatened further, "Get out now, or I'll shoot you."

Alex sighed, unclipping the seat belt and clambering out, "You know a simple 'please' would've sufficed." Blunt didn't react, slamming the car door shut, the slender weapon concealed in the palm of his hand, "And you're not being very creative. I've been in far more interesting hostage situations than this." Still Blunt didn't react, and began pacing into the park, Alex and the sedan long forgotten.

"Is that it?" Alex asked, confused, "A random car ride held at gunpoint?" Blunt stopped, turning his head slowly to face Alex with his back still towards him,

"You want to learn about Omega, don't you?"

Eight words. That was all it took for Alex; eight ever-so tempting words. Alan was giving him a choice. He could turn around now, go back hom – back to ben's house – and forget about the entire incident. But then he will never learn of Blunt's secrets, and the only way he was ever going to have a chance at unlocking them was by following him. But something about the man had seemed off; right from the moment Alex stepped into the car. Blunt was driving, meaning that he had had to make his own way here, and not being chauffeur driven. So no one else knew about this. He was also carrying a gun, and seemed to be in quite the stupor, which worried Alex. They were heading into a park where Alex could see children and their parents playing about, the sight quite similar to what he had had with Ian a long time ago. The man looked as though he was about snap from the pressure, and Alex did not want a bloodbath on his hands.

Making up his decision quickly, a jogged after Blunt, who had continued regardless of whether Alex was following or not, and was heading deeper into the shrubbery. The teen was forced to battle his way through the overgrowth of bushes just to keep up and not lose sight of the man. The overhanging branches that obstructed their path scratched at Alex; twigs and leafs getting stuck in his hair. Together, with Blunt, he stumbled out onto a path, still within the park.

A wooden picnic bench sat lonesome under a grand oak tree, the planking having seen better days. Blunt made his way over and sat down, his shoulders sagging as he rested his legs. Alex noticed they were still in the same park, just a more secluded spot.

'A much quieter place to kill me,' Alex thought bitterly. He could barely see another living soul in sight, not counting the sack of bones Blunt had turned out to be. Alex could see now, since the man's body wasn't obstructed by the car seat that he was stick thin; his suit hanging loosely of his body besides being what looked like three sizes smaller than he'd last seen him, and his hands were gnarled and their length accentuated. Alex took a seat opposite Blunt. Up close in detail his limbs – his entire body – looked emaciated, weakened and frail. The man had really fallen down hill.

"I'm a dead man, Alex," Alan started; his tone soft but just as scratchy, "I'm not going to be able to live much longer. I'll either die at the hands of Omega, or be killed by my own body." He stopped, taking a ragged breath, "Terminal. I've got barely weeks left. But I could die far sooner before then. You see, Alex, Omega is after me." Alex remained blank faced, giving nothing away. He didn't care whether the man died or not, he just wanted the information. He wasn't going to feel _sorry_ for the demon that sat opposite him,

"Why?" was the simple question Alex posed to Blunt, who sharply inhaled again,

"Because I know too much; I've met them, planned with them. I know who they are."

"I have this feeling that you're not going to tell me, though," Alex ground out, "Otherwise, you would have told MI6, and not gone to the trouble of holding me at gunpoint me." Blunt shook his head, snarling slightly,

"I **can't** go to MI6. Don't you understand, you stupid boy! They're everywhere! Not just in MI6, but MI5 as well, in hospitals, in the schools. They are playing a dangerous game with us, Alex, and they've planned ahead. They're _winning_ Alex! They've already tried to take my life three times already, each time I supposed to be secretly hidden."

Alex thought that this sounded familiar. He thought back to when he had first arrived at Ben's. The phone call… he was talking about him! And Blunt! Why didn't he tell Alex? He had a right to know. Blunt got agitated at Alex's lack of reaction, and slammed the butt of the gun down onto the table top,

"You aren't safe. Not for a moment, do you understand? They may need you but they can certainly make your life hell. You can't trust anybody. No one. Not even that bodyguard of yours, Agent Daniels. You never know when you working with the enemy until it's too late, and then you'll be sorry Alex." He paused dramatically for effect, "I'm sorry, but I've got to put a stop to this madness, and put you out of your misery."

The teenager blinked a couple of times, carefully trying to conceal his reaction. Now, he was starting to think that Blunt had gone mad. He trusted Ben, they'd worked together and he'd been nothing but kind to him ever since he'd arrived in Britain. His musings were short lived when he was soon staring down the barrel of the gun.

The man had raised the gun so that it was level with Alex's head. His eyes were empty and glassy, and he heard Blunt pull back the safety on the gun so it was clicked, announcing to the world that it was ready to kill. Alex had had enough. Before Blunt could react, his hand batted the gun to the side, his other hand grabbing his collar quickly across the short distance and heaved down with all his might. Blunt's whole head and torso fell forward under the fast momentum, and his head slammed into the wood. Alex viciously snatched the gun away and held it against its owners head. He wasn't scared of guns any longer. Not after Julius Grief. He pressed the muzzle of the gun into his scalp, a little harder than necessary.

"You still haven't answered my question." Alex said, frostily.

"What question?" he spat out, his face pressed against the grooves of the wood.

"I asked you why?" Alex stated calmly, keeping a cool tone.

"What?" Blunt's tone was puzzled, almost whining.

"Why did you ruin everything? Why did you took my life and ripped it into shreds? Why, Blunt?"

He let Blunt sit up, but he kept the gun trained on him. The man had been overpowered in seconds, and his weak frame wasn't up to the task of another beating like that. He let his thoughts gather for a moment, confusion clouding behind those empty eyes.

"I didn't have a choice Alex. I'm not sorry for using you. I had to, it wasn't my fault. I had orders from my superiors."

"Oh, you had orders, but no moral standards. You could have made a stand Blunt. If you were so afraid of Omega and you being their puppet then why didn't you just come forward with it all and stand up for what is right. You _**did**_ have a choice Blunt; you just made the wrong one." Alex said in the same calm manner, albeit a little patronising, "It's over Blunt. You lost." He slammed the gun down on the table, "And if you ever think of pulling a gun on me again, or if you dare try and interfere with my life once more, then I will hunt you down and hurt you. Omega and cancer are the least of your worries, _Blunt_."

Alex stood up, Blunt trying to splutter out a response to save what little dignity he had left, but Alex was already leaving. He knew the man wouldn't shoot him. He'd seen it in his eyes. The man may have been a tyrant at MI6, but he didn't have the guts to be a killer. The only killing he'd ever done was when he'd looked the other way while helpless agents suffered. Alex was sick to the pit of his stomach, knowing that even though he had the chance, he had spared Blunt; his worst enemy, Jack's killer in his eyes. It had taken him all his might to not pull trigger.

"You cannot fight them Alex" Blunt called out after him, having scrapped any hope of retaining any decorum, "You can't win!"

'Just watch me,' Alex thought, not looking back until he was out of sight. He stopped, inhaling and exhaling heavily, the adrenaline seeping away. The man was insane. Alex had heard enough to know that he had lost the plot.

But now he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and a familiar voice call out "Blunt." It was just enough to get creeping back through the bushes listening in, his rabid curiosity getting the better of him once more.

He could make out Blunt through the leaves, man' face was red and raw from the attack, but he couldn't see the other figure that had come to join him,

"Agent Viking," Blunt said in acknowledgement.

"Your guard detail reported you missing. I traced the GPS in your sedan to here, but what I also found curious was that you happened to stop by Brooklands. Tell me why." The voice didn't mention anything about the red mark of the man's face. Odd, but it wasn't important.

"I was just looking," Alex saw Blunt say; his hand swiped the pistol off the table, and dropped it into his pocket.

"No, you stopped for exactly four seconds, approximately. If you happened to be looking you would have either stopped for longer, or just driven by. I know he was here just moments ago. What did you tell Alex Rider?" Blunt gave no response, his posture slouching over the bench,

"I'm waiting for an answer Blunt…"

"I told him nothing!" Blunt snapped his eyes wide in anger. The owner of the voice wasn't put off, and even chuckled slightly,

"Now we both know that's not true. Your information could be _**vital**_ in understanding and combatting Omega. We could be in serious danger, Blunt, and we need that information or we're going to be in trouble." The voice spoke, pleading to Alan's sense of justice. A malicious grimace peeled away his lips, revealing blackened and horrid teeth,

"That's exactly what I want." The unseen figure sighed loudly, as more footsteps approached.

"Arrest him for withholding evidence," The voice barked, shouting orders to two security guards that had come to the figure's aid. They grasped Blunt by the arms, yanking them roughly behind his back, causing him to groan in pain as his fragile limbs were abused, "Take him to be interrogated, have Jones do it, she understands him the most." The guards dragged him away, his feet uselessly kicking up dirt and soil as he was taken by force.

Alex waited for them to leave, but the figure, the one the voice belonged to moved into his line of sight. Alex had to suppress a gasp; the voice _had_ been familiar.

There, in front of Alex, hands in his pockets and eyes skimming around, was none other than Blue.

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The house was silent when Alex got back, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock that stood under the alcove of the stairs. Alex dropped his bag by the foot of the stairs and looked briefly at the time. If Alex was right, Ben would be home within an hour, so Alex decided to make himself useful; Ben had made him breakfast _and_ lunch. Alex supposed that it would be courteous to make dinner. Also, it would help him to think, after Ben had shown him the night before that cooking soothed the boy, and calmed his thoughts.

He rushed upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes before heading to the kitchen and tying on his apron. He scoured the cupboards, fridge and freezer in search of any food that was quick to prepare yet was in some way tasteful. He scavenged an old bag of pasta, still miraculously in date, fresh vegetables and tomatoes, and a wide assortment of herbs and spices they had used when cooking the beef before. Setting himself to work, Alex was soon engrossed in preparing the meal that the meeting with Blunt came back to light for him. He had claimed Ben was untrustworthy, but Alex knew that was a downright lie. Ben had saved his life not once but twice before now, and the Liverpudlian had welcomed Alex into his home. The answer was simple; Ben wasn't a traitor, he was Alex's best friend and unknowingly confidant.

So then why did he doubt himself?

He began to slice at the peppers with a bit more vehement force. Ben couldn't be a traitor. Blunt was a madman, no better than some of the other villains Alex had faced. What did he know about Ben? He hadn't trained with him for two weeks; he hadn't been on missions with him. But then again, Blunt had known about Omega. He had pretty much told Alex they had already infiltrated MI6 and MI5, which meant that Alex now had to step carefully. If what Blunt said _was_ true, then Alex was in very grave danger; only _hypothetically_ _speaking_, of course.

Alex was soon finished with chopping the vegetables. He already had the water bubbling away with the pasta nestled safely inside. He added the vegetables to his sauce of tomatoes, and kept adding until a pleasant aroma filled the kitchen. With everything out of the way, Alex was about to see what else he could do to pass the time until ben arrived back from work.

But the wait didn't last long, as Alex heard the crunching of gravel underneath tyres. He went to check up on dinner, making sure that the food stayed warm and didn't burn. A key turned In the lock, and a draft blew through the house as the front door and opened and then closed.

"Alex?" the baritone voice called out.

"Here," Alex replied absent-mindedly. He was looking forward to surprising Ben with him taking the initiative and cooking, but the scowl and Ben's face made Alex's heart sink a little.

"Where were you?" Ben demanded his voice stern, "I had asked Lion to go pick you up, but he told me you were never showed up. I've been worried sick!" Alex realised that he had to come up with a story fast. He couldn't let Ben know about Blunt, he would angry at the fact that he had let himself be momentarily kidnapped at gunpoint and then chosen willingly to go talk to him.

"I decided to walk home," Alex lied smoothly, "I completely forgot about getting a lift back, sorry." Ben looked at him sceptically, but the excuse seemed plausible enough.

"Alright, but make sure it doesn't happen again. I mean, you could have been kidnapped or something." Ben said, ruffling the boy's hair, before sniffing, "What on earth is that smell?"

Alex's brow creased, "What, does something smell bad?"

"No. It smells amazing," Ben strode past Alex and into the kitchen. Lifting up one of the pot lids containing the pasta sauce, he inhaled the fumes wafting out of it. He turned to Alex, gesturing to both the pots, "You did this?" Alex nodded,

"Well you made breakfast, and my lunch. I figured I'd help out by making tea." Ben grinned,

"Well, pasta _is_ my favourite."

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Before they sat down to eat, Ben excused himself, and left for the other room. Alex heard muffled noises, and could only assume that Ben was on the phone to someone. When he came back in, he face was a little darker than usual. Alex noticed the change in expression, but didn't press it.

"How was school?" Ben asked, thinking of a way to distract himself and Alex from upcoming events,

"Pretty boring; all we did was mostly admin stuff," Alex replied, not really comfortable talking about school. His bad experience in the past with Brooklands meant that he had a marred reputation, and he most certainly did not want Ben finding out about his repeated absences and the shady rumours that surrounded him.

"Make any new friends?" Ben asked, seemingly not satisfied with the lack of detail Alex had given.

"I met Tom again," Alex answered truthfully. Ben gave him a questioning look, "He's an old friend. We knew each other before I left for America." He decided it'd be best to leave out the part about Tom knowing about his secret identity… and the part where he also had two other friends; Melissa and Eleanor, who also knew his secret. The consequences would be dire for them if MI6 ever caught up with them.

Ben nodded in approval, glad that Alex was making friends and repairing his life, "Have you got any homework?" Alex shook his head, mouth full of pasta.

They soon finished their meal, and Alex was about to excuse himself and head upstairs when there was a knock at the door. Ben made Alex stay in the living room, sitting bewildered on one of the large comfy sofas, whilst he went to answer the door. There was a scuffle of footsteps, and in came four very grumpy looking soldiers. They made themselves as comfortable as can be, all facing Alex. Ben followed behind them, a folder in his hand. He dropped it down on the coffee table just in front the young spy for him to see. The file was nondescript; it was a dreary beige colour, and looked like it was full of a variety of papers and documents.

"What's K-Unit doing here?" Alex asked, pretending to ignore the file. Wolf looked furious,

"Well, considering that we've just spent the past hour looking for the world's most dangerous spy around London, I think we've earned the right to be here for this," he jabbed a finger in the direction of the folder.

"That and you're still part of our unit. We take care of one another. Oh, and next time you decide to venture home on your own, please tell me so I don't spend the good part of half an hour waiting around outside a school like some creep." Lion added. Although his last part had meant to be a joke, it had come across as a scolding. The tension in the room was heavy, and Alex couldn't comprehend what was going on.

"Do you know what this is, Alex?" Ben asked gently, tapping the file.

"It's the file from the bank." He answered, unsure of where this was going.

"It's _your_ file Alex," Ben said calmly, "and you have some serious explaining to do."

**There so that's finished. The next chapter was originally going to be part of this chapter, but it was beginning to drag on, so I split it into two. Not ideal, but it will suffice. **

**You won't much suffer though. I'll try to upload the second part to this as soon as I can so you won't have to wait. If I don't manage, I apologise, but I'm decorating at the moment, so my time is stretched. Once we've finished in about a couple of days, I should be able to upload much faster. For now, just be patient with me.**

**Yet again, Blue makes an unexpected appearance, and bad-ass teenage spy Alex is back on track.**

**K-Unit confronts Alex however. What will they learn I wonder?**

**Your reviews are amazing. Did you know that upon reading some of them I actually had to change the confrontation between Alex and Blunt? Seriously, you guys give me the greatest ideas :D**

**Thanks for reading – K9**


	7. Truth

**Here's the second part to the previous chapter. I must admit, I had some trouble writing this. It always irked me how confrontations between K-Unit and Alex always seem to be the same, with epiphanies and revelations. I tried to add my own spin of things, but I dunno…**

_"Do you know what this is, Alex?" Ben asked gently, tapping the file._

_"It's the file from the bank." He answered, unsure of where this was going._

_"It's _your_ file Alex," Ben said calmly, "and you have some serious explaining to do."_

"My file?" Alex asked his throat dry. Ben couldn't be serious, but he stood up, pacing back across the room,

"Alex Rider, total number of missions: 8. Total number of self-investigations: 2, one of which became a mission. Rider has undergone numerous side missions and single assignments, with a 100% success rating. First recruited at age 14 upon Agent Ian Rider's death, Alex has shown an aptitude, much like his ascendants, for espionage work," Alex realised Ben was quoting the file, "However Alex exhibits lack of motivation when missions are assigned to him. Therefore, heavy persuasion tactics are used to enforce assignments… Why didn't you tell me they were blackmailing you, Alex?"

"You never asked…" Alex mumbled, anger flaring inside him, "This stuff is supposed to be classified! Not even you have high enough clearance, let alone _them_!" he pointed at the group of soldiers huddled on the fair sofa. Wolf looked like he was about to snap at Alex again, but Ben caught him to it,

"Under the circumstances, Mrs Jones thought it best that all parties involved with your protection are to be informed of your file. K-Unit has been assigned to the Omega investigation as an emergency tactical unit, and as your guard detail." Ben explained calmly, "And I shouldn't have to. You should tell someone when you're being forced into doing this kind of stuff; if not me then someone else!"

"How could I?" Alex snapped back, the argument escalating, "You can't just go to social services or the Police and tell them that the secret service is blackmailing you! No one would've believed me, and MI6 would've reacted harshly had I done." Ben rubbed the bridge of his nose, forehead crinkling in concentration,

"But it' not just that is it Alex… the stuff you've done, in that file. You were shot in the heart for god's sakes Alex!" The whole of K-Unit bristled. Wolf, Eagle and Lion looked shocked for a minute, and then fury slowly swept into their faces. Snake on the other hand looked passive, almost serene as he stood up and grasped Alex by the wrist and led him upstairs and into the bathroom, not once mentioning a word. Ben followed obediently, whilst K-Unit remained were they were, all of them grabbing at the file. Alex heard muffled gasps as they rifled through the documents before the door closed and the sounds blocked out, annoying Alex that they had been left with practically his entire life written down on paper.

"Take off your shirt," Snake asked, although it may as well have been an order. Alex smirked, trying to brush him off, "Really, Snake? Didn't your parents tell you it was rude to ask that on a first date?"

"Take. Off. The. Shirt." Snake ground out, each word punctuated and aggressive. Alex complied, unbuttoning the shirt, revealing a multitude of scars that crisscrossed over Alex's torso. From behind Alex, Ben resisted to gasp as he saw whip marks and scars that ran along the boy's back. Snake took them all with a critical eye, his hands pressing gently into each one making silent assessments. Alex thought about remarking how he hadn't asked for permission to touch him, but he bit it back; the look in the man's eyes before were more frightening than Blunt's.

He hissed in pain when Snake started probing around the bullet scar on his chest, but he battled through it, not wanting to look that weak in front of the medic and older spy. He kept watching Snake's face for a reaction, but all the man did was give him hard, cold looks,

"Any other wounds or scars I should know about?"

"No, not really… the knife wound's healed up okay…" Alex responded hesitantly, worried of the man's reaction. He seemed to be taking everything in his stride, and he hadn't once shown the slightest bit of anger.

"Good, because I'm going to kill you, Ben." Or maybe not…

"Me, why? I didn't even know this was happening until today." Ben spluttered, "We should go back downstairs. There's more to this, Sullivan." Snake's jaw dropped momentarily before he shut it with an audible click. The medic stomped out the room, heading back downstairs. Ben held the door open for Alex, who didn't want to go and face the wrath of his unit,

"Come on Alex," Ben urged gently, "We need to deal with this now."

With great reluctance, Alex trudged down the stairs, with Ben following close behind. He could hear the indistinct voices of K-Unit discussing stuff about him. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Ben smiling reassuringly at him. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped in. Once again, the room fell silent. On the coffee table, the file laid practically empty, save for a few sheets of meaningless paper. Papers and documents were scattered about the room, some on chairs, some on the floor, Eagle even had a reasonably large clump in his hand. They were all looking at him with mixed emotions plastered across their faces, and Alex felt instantly uncomfortable. He sat back in his old place, resigning himself to fate. Suddenly though, they all started to shout out questions, some rhetorical others not,

"Why didn't you say your parents were dead?" Wolf asked.

"You faced up against Scorpia on _three _occasions, and you're still _alive_?" Lion yelled.

"You never said you had a clone!" Eagle pelted clearly unaware of the gravity of the situation.

"You were shot only _half a centimetre_ higher than your heart, and they _still_ had you doing missions?" Snake asked incredulously. Ben could see that Alex was getting overwhelmed and stepped in,

"Alright, alright! That's enough!" he spoke loudly, his voice dominating the room and commanding total silence, "I think Alex had better do the talking, and don't keep interrupting him all in one go."

Alex nodded, thanking Ben,

"Technically, it all started when I was just a kid, but officially I was recruited after my uncle died. You see, he'd been apparently killed in a car crash and hadn't been wearing his seat belt. I knew it was a lie, so I decided to find the car and see for myself. When I did, however, it was pretty clear it hadn't been just some accident. There were bullet holes littering the entire car. So, I went to the bank where he supposedly worked to confront them, but I got side-tracked by on of their agents and one thing lead to another. Soon, I had been drugged, kidnapped and taken away by MI6. When I came to, I was met with Alan Blunt, the head of MI6, who proposed I finish the assignment my uncle had started. I refused, but then he blackmailed me with deporting my friend and only guardian back to America, so I accepted and went to train wit you guys." Alex gestured to the soldiers, "you know what happened there, and I kept getting manipulated into doing one mission after the other. Granted, there were times where I went off on my own, but the circumstances were different. For instance, when I went to Scorpia, which was because my dad had apparently worked for them, and I wanted answers that MI6 wouldn't give."

"But you've been on over nine different major missions Alex, no rest, no PT. Nothing. Did they just expect to you to be invincible?" Snake asked, still not dropping the bullet wound and scars, "I can't believe they'd expect a _child_ to do their dirty work? How could you?" he snapped irritably.

"I just told you, I couldn't refuse! The made me!" Alex shouted back indignantly.

"Not you," Snake said calmly, "Ben." The entire unit swivelled their heads to look at their former member,

"I only just found out about all this today. Before now, I just thought he'd gone on a couple of missions because of his experience. You know, like one or two. I never would've guessed nine, nor allowed it to happen." Ben stammered, yet again placed on the pedestal of anger.

"I can't believe this," Wolf started, head in hands, "Our own government resorts to using minors for work like ours. I mean, he's only fifteen, but he's killed people Ben. That does a lot of damage to you, not just physically but emotionally. There has to be something you can do?" Alex was surprised at the amount of concern K-Unit were showing. Here was the unit that had made his life hell supporting him and helping him. His once murky relationship with them was finally having some light spread on it and Alex smiled inwardly. The darkness was finally leaving his life.

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The discussion had gone on for hours; with Alex trying to answer all the questions K-Unit had to offer as best as he could. But they just kept coming up more and more queries. Alex was swamped with so many questions he had lost track of time, and ben had mercifully pulled him out the firing line, claiming that Alex would soon have to go to bed under the excuse of having to be up early tomorrow for school again. They had left, albeit still fuming and grumbling over the abuse Alex had been subjected to. But Alex wasn't finished. Once he was sure K-Unit had left, he confronted Ben himself,

"Why did you have my file?" He started, working himself up, "You didn't even ask if it was alright to go prodding around in my private life, you just jumped and paraded it al around for everyone to see!"

"Alex, they had to know. _**I**_ had to know. What they did to you wasn't fair, and it was completely uncalled for." Ben argued, not raising his voice to match Alex's.

"Screw them! I want to know why you went behind my back and then scrutinized my entire life as though you had complete understanding of it!" Alex was furious now, chest heaving in frustration,

"Alexander Jonathan Rider, don't you _dare_ talk to me in that tone." Ben commanded. Alex's eyes went wide at the use of his full name. He was about to argue again, anger seething through his veins,

"Maybe Blunt was right; maybe you are a traitor…" Alex muttered to himself before he could stop, but Ben heard all the same,

"What about Blunt? What do you mean traitor?" Ben asked frowning in worry.

"Well, if now's the time to start coming clean and telling everyone that you lied and went off without their knowledge, then I guess I'd better tell you that I saw _Alan Blunt_ today," Alex coldly said, putting as much emphasis on the man's name, "I didn't make my own way home. He held me at gunpoint, and he told me some very interesting things. But don't worry though, because my trust in you has just gone out the window!" Alex yelled at the gawping spy who was still trying to comprehend what the teen had just told him. Without giving Ben a chance to recover, he stormed up the stairs, the threat of tears in his eyes. Blunt had been right. Ben was a traitor…

"Alex, come back. Please, Cub wait!" Ben called out after him, but it was too late, and Alex slammed his door shut and threw himself on the bed, tears now streaming down his face.

Ben stood there, dumbstruck. He hadn't expected that. Blunt was supposed to be under protection as well since Omega had tried to assassinate him. He had known about the three security breaches before now, but he hadn't been informed of Bunt managing to slip away from the guards and kidnapping Alex. He picked up the phone that was off to the side and dialled a particular number. He eyes drifted to the ceiling above him where Alex would almost certainly be by now, and he was worried. If the boy didn't have any trust in him then he couldn't help him, and that thought scared Ben the most.

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The call had confirmed it; Alex had been telling the truth. There was CCTV footage of him getting into the black sedan, one that had been identified as Blunt's. But there was no point in doubting him now; he had to repair the damage he'd done. Alex had been absolutely right when telling – or more yelling- at him for going behind his back. Ben felt extremely guilty, but every time he knocked on Alex's door al he got was a cold dismissal. He tried to respect the teens wishes, but it was getting late into the night. The older spy would have to wait till morning to approach him again, and by that time he might have possibly come up with a method to fix the peace between the two.

But great minds think alike.

Alex had been gong through the same thought process as Ben. He knew he had over reacted at his guardian, but he was tired and irritable at having been, in his mind, belittled and subjected to by K-Unit. Ben had been more helpful than them; he had told them to quiet down when Alex was overwhelmed. In actuality, Alex realised the man had been far kinder than that. The man had saved his life back in America, taken him into his home and done everything he possible could to make Alex comfortable. He had been there for him when he had had that nightmare, bought him clothes and made him his meals. He hadn't even shouted at him once throughout all the evening. He'd been a rock to Alex, and suddenly, without him Alex felt vulnerable. More vulnerable than ever before, the last time being when Jack died. The fear in his mind of Ben being a traitor was clearing, and Alex wanted nothing more now than to apologise to him. But it was late; and he slowly fell into a fitful slumber.

Ben had heard the first moans of agony as he washed the plates from Alex's cooking (which he reminded himself he needed to thank the boy). He listened intently again, and sure enough there was another wail, more painful than the first. Ben dropped the plate he was holding, the dish smashing as it dropped to the floor, but by then the spy was already flying up the stairs, broken plate forgotten. His mind touched upon Alex's animosity, but he pushed it aside; Alex was in pain and needed help. He flung the door to Alex's room open, seeing Alex on the bed, still dressed writhing in his sleep. The sight was horrible.

Meanwhile, in Alex's head, another nightmare was playing out.

_Unlike last time, Alex was standing in a room of brilliant white light. He couldn't see anything for miles, and his head was straining from the harsh onslaught of brightness. A hand tapped his shoulder, and Alex spun around to be face with Blue. _

"_Hello there, Rider-boy."_

"_What do you want? Who are you?" Alex demanded, having some control, it would seem, over his dream._

"_Oh, I'm not the boy you call Blue. No, I'm your subconscious, and I can take any form I like…" the face began to melt and reform, _

"_I could be your friend," the creature said as it morphed into a replica of Tom,_

"_Or your enemy," The Gentleman appeared next, complete with flowers and knife,_

"_I could be your demon," Blunt, in all his monstrous glory, faced Alex,_

"_Or your only hope," Alex reeled back slightly, as the form of Ben towered above him, casting a shadow over Alex. Alex said nothing, the voice having escaped his throat long ago,_

"_You can't win, Alex" the Ben-thing began, quoting Blunt, "You're running out of allies, Alex, out of friends. But most importantly, you're running out of options."_

_Alex made to run away, but the creature gripped his arm in a vice like grip, Ben's hand falling on Alex's forearm. Alex watched in horror as yet again he creature began to shift and melt, changing its appearance one more time. But what it became next made Alex sick._

_Jack's charred and rotting face was pressed close to his own. The smell of pungent flesh as it decomposed filled his nostrils, and Alex had to gag from throwing up. Her hand still clung to his arm, and he could feel the cold slimy touch, making him shudder._

"_Why are you afraid, Alex? Can you not bear to see what you have done?" the monster said its voice exactly the same a Jack's, accent and all, "This is what happens when you trust someone. This happens when you get close to them!"_

_Alex whimpered, desperately trying to wake himself. He wrenched his hand free of the monster's grasp and began to run, not really caring where he was going so long as he got away,_

"Alex?_" Jack called out after him, no longer using her voice but that of Ben's. The creature pounced, and wrestled Alex to the ground, the burnt arms wrapping around Alex's shoulders, claw-like fingernails digging into his body, drawing blood. _

"Alex?_" the creature whispered again, the same voice. Alex wanted to scream. He couldn't breathe and the monster's blood and rotting flesh was smothering him. His world faded to black as the mutilated body Jack's clung to Alex's, tearing and ripping apart at him._

Alex woke up, eyes instantly wide. He became aware of somebody holding him, his head pressed against a shoulder. Arms were wrapped around him, and h felt himself slowly being rocked back and forth with a hand stroking his matted hair. He glanced up, seeing the strong face of Ben, who was crying.

Ben looked down at the boy; his eye's red with tears, not stopping his actions,

"I'm sorry Alex," he mumbled, "This is my entire fault. I shouldn't have done what I did. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm so sorry." Alex didn't say anything; he just let himself be warmed by the man's embrace, hugging him back slightly.

"M'sorry too," Alex murmured after a while, "I shouldn't have shouted at you." Ben laughed weakly, ruffling the boy's hair before smoothing it out again with more strokes,

"You don't have to be sorry for anything, Alex. You've been though enough already."

"Can I tell you something?" Alex asked meekly after another pause.

"Anything kiddo."

"I miss Jack."

Ben rubbed the side of he boy's face, wiping away the tear that dropped. He'd read about Jack, it was in Alex's file. She had been his previous guardian before she had been killed. He remained silently as Alex, without prompt began to open up, the trust restored. He'd talked about Jack's antics, about how she had cared for hi mas he grew and about how she had a strong disliking for British government, allowing the use of a teenager for espionage.

"It wasn't fair. Blunt got a knighthood and Jack didn't even get a funeral," Alex stated sadly. It was true, there was practically nothing to bury; the blast had burnt everything to cinders. MI6 and the CIA had agreed that they would keep the whole course of events regarding Alex's last mission a secret, and that meant silencing Jack's death. No one knew she was dead. To the world, Jack Starbright had ceased to exist.

"I didn't even know her full name…" Alex murmured sleepily as he huddled closer into Ben's torso, where he promptly, but thankfully, fell into a much more peaceful sleep. Ben just held him close as the boy, as he too drifted off.

**Wow, that was exhausting. Apologies on the mushy stuff, but Ben's not a traitor and I wanted to enforce that. I know the K-Unit confrontation thing ended early, but it was difficult to remember all the details from the book that needed to be included. If I miss anything out, I'll add it in later.**

**This chapter is considerably shorter than the previous, but like I said, it was supposed to be all one chapter. But here it is. **

**A few response to reviews:**

**Kahlan13 – Glad to see you back, and Alex's birthday is an iffy topic, so I just went with one of the dates and rolled with it. And thanks for calling me unbelievable! :3**

**MyOpium – You'll learn about Blue soon enough… ;D**

**Nikki the Spy – I really don't like using Blunt as an enemy. I think that he's been used too many times as the bane in Alex's life and I'm trying to avoid that. In fact, I will avoid that in the next chapter.**

**Speaking of which; next chapter promises good things… you'll just have to wait and find out.**


	8. Blue

**Thank you to all of you who review, and to those reading. It fills me with great pride to hear you say how much you love my story. As promised, I have some wonderful spoilers in this chapter for you to dig your teeth in, so enjoy.**

**And curse some of you ^. You keep almost hitting the nail on the head with some of your ideas. Not telling you gets close though… ;) I have to keep some of my secrets.**

**Thank you so much – K9 : D**

Ben pulled open the curtains, filling the room with morning rays of sunshine. Alex squinted at the sudden brightness, huddling further under the duvet to escape the new day. But Ben's expression was a dark one, much like the one last night, and Alex was worried for a moment that he'd done something else he was unaware of wrong,

"Blunt's dead."

Those two words made Alex become instantly wide awake. Alan Blunt was dead? How? Why? When? Where? Questions began pouring through his mind, inflicting emotions battling each other. Ben elaborated without prompt,

"He was murdered in his cell at one in the morning. Well, at least that's when Jones found him. There was a message written in his blood on the walls which read: _We're waiting __Ω (if you can't see the symbol, it's the Greek Omega symbol)_. The tag is the Greek symbol for Omega, which spells out bad news for us. They've infiltrated MI6; meaning we're going to have to boost security around you. K-Unit will have to take a more pro-active role than what they're doing now, and you'll just have to be on your guard. To pull you out of school now and start juggling you around with a dozen other things is too risky, and it'll raise too many questions with the wrong people." Alex nodded numbly. Blunt was dead. It didn't know how to react. Should he be sorry? No, the man had ruined his life. That monster deserved it. Should he be angry then? No, he shouldn't waste his time on the petty thing that he was. Concluding that Blunt's death hardly mattered to him, he gave Ben a good morning as he left Alex's room to get changed himself and got out of bed. He tried pushing the thoughts of Blunt away, but they bled into his conscious. The last time he'd seen him alive was… was when Blue had him arrested! He remembered the guards dragging him away, Blue ordering them to do it. Alex smelled a rat, and he was determined to catch it. He also smelled Ben making breakfast, so whipping out his phone, he texted Tom quickly, a plan already forming his head and eager to get downstairs for breakfast.

_Is there a kid our school wiv a strand of blue hair?_ He asked. He waited impatiently for the reply, and thankfully it came within seconds,

**Yeah, why?** Alex's heart leapt for joy, happy something was going his way for a change and not the complete opposite,

_U kno his name?_

**Garfield Viking, I think. Freaky kid tho, has this stare tht givs me the shivers. **Viking. That was what Blunt had said. _Agent_ Viking! Alex allowed a sly grin curl across his face. He now knew Blue's name. Garfield Viking. Odd name, Alex contemplated. He supposed it _was_ a modern day society, and there were all sorts of crazy names out, like Apple or Tiger or Gandalf. Garfield Viking was normal compared to any of them.

Alex got dressed quickly, slipping his phone back into his school blazer. The aroma from downstairs was much stronger out on the landing, and Alex smiled yet again as he realised that Ben was making pancakes. He rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, not caring to hide his excitement as he eagerly sat down, knife and fork already in hand with maple syrup at the ready. Ben cast a glance over his shoulder from where he was flipping the delicious circles of goodness, chuckling at Alex's display of emotion. It would seem that the two were finally getting along better, and his heart warmed at the idea of a happier Alex. Ben was so pleased that he even decided to exaggerate the flipping just for Alex, putting on a show for him to watch and tossing them high into the air before expertly catching them.

The performance had to be cut, however, as Alex did have school and Ben had work. Alex drowned his share pancakes in maple syrup whilst Ben opted for a healthier choice of strawberries and bananas. A peculiar mix, but Ben had peculiar tastes in food. The Heston Blumenthal of the spying world. The two idly chatted whilst they ate,

"What's your view on me having friends over?" Alex queried, feeling more open with the older spy,

"So long as they don't cause a ruckus and are polite, no problem at all," Ben answered sincerely. He really had no qualm with Alex having friends over; the boy needed the company rather than having just military spies and soldiers for friends.

Ben looked at his watch, and nearly choked in alarm,

"Look at the time," he murmured around a mouthful of pancake, "We've got barely minutes left!" He and Alex wolfed the rest of their breakfast down, and made for the door, leaving dirty bowls and glasses in the sink. Alex reached for his bag, only to find there was no lunch inside. Ben looked over his shoulder to see what was wrong as he pulled on his jacket,

"Oh, sorry kiddo, forgot about that," He said, noticing the absence of a meal for Alex. He reached into his jacket and drew out his wallet. Alex pretended not to take notice, but he couldn't help but smile when Ben handed him a ten pound note, "Keep it as an apology for forgetting," he said, feeling awfully generous. He doubted the boy had any real money, and his mind wandered over the prospect of an allowance or pocket money of sorts. He shuddered. Next thing he would know, the bugger will be bleeding him dry.

Together, they left the house, Alex with a slight spring in his step. New leads on Blue, delectable pancake and free money! Today was going to be a good day.

And today, he was finally going to get some answers.

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Alex couldn't hold his impatience when he got to school. He emptied his things into his locker, took out the necessary books and raced to registration. He had to find Tom and tell him everything…

"So Blunt's dead now, right?" Alex nodded as Tom ran through the events again, "And it was Omega that did him in, so now you've got to go and confront this blue kid about it?" Alex nodded again more enthusiastically than the last time,

"Well? Are you in or not?" he asked. A gleeful smile spread across Tom's face,

"Of course; wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun!" Melissa listened in to their conversation. Although she was new to whole idea of 'getting involved with the spy' thing, but she insisted upon helping. Ella joined too later when she arrived in late and together, the four of them planned on intercepting Blue and cornering him. Mr Hatchet, however, was not at all pleased with their shenanigans, and ordered them to be quiet during registration.

Their plan came about earlier than suspected, as the entire year had a free period before lunch. Alex and Tom were going over final details when Ella came running up to them,

"I've just got a text from Mel. She says she's spotted him in the library, and he's alone." Alex thanked her, and the three of them went to rendezvous with the girl. She approached them as they came up,

"He's still in there. He's got some laptop with him ad he hasn't stopped typing at it since. I don't think we'll need a distraction," she whispered. They _were_ in a library after all, and Mrs Peterson wasn't ruthless when it came to maintaining and running her library. The librarian was one of the few people Alex genuinely feared. The woman had a hart of gold, but he glare could probably send Wolf cowering like a school child. Alex peered round the edge of the bookcase they were hidden behind, an obscenely large spider plant blocking his view. He parted the leaves, and sure enough there sat Blue, incessantly typing away at the portable computer. His fingers flew so fast over the keys that all Alex could see was an indistinct blur. There was a door behind Blue, and he was practically vulnerable with only one exit to go. The plan was decided. He looked back at the others, who were all staring at him with keen expressions. He signalled for them to get to their positions, and the plan was set into action.

Ella was up first. She passed Blue, pretending to make her way pas him to look for a book. She began scouring the shelves, her mind in apparent wonder,

"Hey, Garfield, you're the bookworm. Know anywhere I could find some history books on Churchill Winters?" he asked innocently. It was enough to stop Blue typing, just as Alex had guessed. With the question causing him both to think about what books there _were_ on Winston Churchill, but also about the blatantly obvious flaw in the facts. Alex had designated Ella to do the task, as she was the girl who tried to be friends with everyone knew, making an effort to get them comfortable. The good habit meant that she was the only one that knew Blue vaguely, despite him being distant, and so the question wouldn't have been suspicious.

"It's _Winston_ Churchill and you're in the wrong section," Blue answered, slightly peeved that he had been interrupted. He closed the laptop lid down, effectively stopping what he was doing, "Come, I'll show where they are."

He rose out of his seat, and was about to exit the alcove he was in when Tom and Alex burst out from behind two parallel bookcases and each grasped a separate arm, dragging him back in to the small enclosed space. Ella opened up the door to the supplies closet and held it open for the two captors and captive to enter inside. The door silently closed, and Mel stood up from a table not far from where the whole incident took place, scanning around to see if anyone noticed. She strode purposefully into the supply closet, picking up the laptop as she went and giving another quick glance around before disappearing out of sight. It had lasted only seconds, but Blue was finally right where Alex wanted him.

Inside the closet, Alex and Tom threw Blue against the wall, not hard enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to daze him. Mel stepped in beside Ella, shutting the door behind her.

"What's going on?" Blue, or Garfield, asked innocently bewildered by his treatment. It took him a moment to realise what was happening, and his sneer of confusion was amended into a grin, "Rider-boy! And co.!" he exclaimed.

"I have questions, and _you _are going to answer them!" Alex snarled keeping up the impression he was just a school bully just in case things go wrong. If it later transpired that Blue had no connection _at all_ with MI6, and Blunt and Omega, then Alex would have a very deep hole to dig himself out of; best to cover all his bases. Blue nodded, still grinning,

"Ask away!"

"Firstly, what's you're name?"

"Garfield Viking." So the boy was using his real name it would seem,

"What's with the blue hair?" Tom asked, but the glower from both Alex and Garfield made him shut up. Had he looked behind him, he would have seen the girls roll their eyes. Alex decided to build up the courage to test – prove or dismiss – his theory,

"Do you work for MI6…" there was a pregnant pause. Nobody breathed as the smile on Garfield's face got even wider,

"No." Alex slammed his hand against a nearby wall. He had been wrong! Damn it, how the hell was he going to explain this? He'd have to rely upon MI6 to bail him out, _yet again_.

"But I _do_ work for MI5…" Garfield told the group, not bothering in hiding the mischievous tone in his voice. Alex whirled around, and Tom, Mel and Ella stared at him gobsmacked. Alex slipped his mask into place, giving nothing away. Outside, the sound of a muffled bell rang through the school.

"Look," Garfield said, "I think it's about time you and I have a chat." Garfield was addressing this to Alex, ignoring the still shocked expressions of the three other teens, "Meet me in the canteen in a couple of minutes and we'll talk over lunch." Alex agreed, and the five of them left the closet, only to run in with Mrs Peterson, a silent eye brow raised in bot question and accusation. It was Tom, who came to the group's rescue,

"Excuse us miss," he began edging his way around her rather large waist, "We were just looking for our… lost cat!" Alex groaned at the excuse, but played along since Tom had instigated it now,

"Sorry miss, but we're all very close to Fluffy. It was if she was a really human… with a tail… and hairballs."

"Yeah, I do ever so miss our little Fluffy!" Ella lied unbelievingly. Her tone was absolutely terrible.

"She's short and fat, has a huge bushy tail and is completely white. You couldn't miss her. If you use her, let us know!" Mel explained, as she too made her exit. All that was left was Garfield, and Mrs Peterson looked at him expectantly, awaiting another excuse,

"Well?" She asked testily. Garfield smiled, a glint in his eye,

"Oh, there's no cat miss. We just made all those things up just to distract you." And with that, he dashed past the librarian and out the door before the lady could react.

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Alex waited in line, stuck behind the lumbering form of Mr Hatchet, who was taking his time in selecting something to eat. He sighed in exasperation to himself; why did Ben have to forget to make a lunch _today_ of all days? The line trudged a little onwards, but the teacher was still lost in his own world of half-rate food and poor choice. There were grumbles of displeasure and annoyance as the line in the canteen was held back. Alex almost joined in; he was missing precious time to talk to Garfield, but he held himself back, as Mr Hatchet had quite the temper. The diner lady serving today was by no means attractive, with a wart hanging off the side of her nose and her skin wrinkled beyond belief, and she stood there looking as though she would rather be somewhere else. What was surprising to Alex, and much to Tom's amusement was that the woman was actually Mr Hatchet's sister…

"Jus' pick somethin' would'ya Arnold?" she complained, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Alex cringed. _Why_ _did Ben have to forget?_ Mr Hatchet – or Arnold, as Alex now knew – harrumphed in indignation at being singled out by his sibling. The line thankfully moved on, and Alex hastily made his choice so as to not hinder the pace any longer than necessary. She slopped a lasagne onto the cheap plastic tray, the meat looked overdone and the sauce was thick and gloopy. Alex wanted to retch at the thought of eating this horrible gunk, but he mused it was better than the gruel he had eaten at the SAS training camp. He thanked the woman, handing over the money and accepting the change, and rushed out of the line having finally acquired all of his lunch. What he wasn't expecting as he turned to leave was to hurl himself full force into the rotund belly of Mr Hatchet.

"Watch where you're going Rider!" He bellowed as Alex's tray clattered to the floor, sending his food tumbling along with it. The so-called food splattered onto the ground in an ugly mess, and Alex wanted to scream his frustration at the world. It had taken him fifteen minutes to patiently sit through the entire queue, and now it looked even longer! But, fortunately, Mr Hatchet had other ideas, and huffed once more in anger,

"Oh, just take mine will you!" He shoved his tray into Alex's empty hands, "I wasn't hungry anyway…" The man walked off, leaving Alex standing there dumbfounded at his generosity. He didn't get a chance to thank him, but he hardly cared as he made his way over to the table his friends were sitting at. As he came over, he caught up with their conversation,

"…so you really do work for MI5?" Mel asked with her hands clasped together with the fingers interlaced. She was looking intently at Garfield, he chuckled slightly,

"Yes, and for the thousandth time, yes!"

"But _why_ is your hair blue?" Tom whined, unhappy about being dismissed earlier. Blue groaned, and the table burst into laughter just as Alex took his seat. The laughter died down, and Garfield turned to look at Alex directly,

"So, what do you want? The recent story, or he full one?"

"Full. I want to know everything, because you," Alex said, jabbing his plastic fork in his direction before dissecting a portion of lasagne and shovelling it into his mouth. It tasted horrid, like it had gone off years ago and had been rotting ever since, but it was canteen food, so Alex expected nothing less. He swallowed his mouthful before adding "are one mysterious and bizarre individual." Garfield sighed, but complied al the same,

"Let's start with the beginning. You see, you and I, Alex, we're a lot a like. I was born in Britain like you, and I was an orphan too. My parents were killed fire, but I was rescued by the firemen who had managed to get to me in time. I had no living relatives, so I was whisked away into care. For five years no one hardly took notice of me, that was until this man came along. I never learnt his name, the social workers assumed that I would instantly call him 'Dad', and he would never tell me. I had to refer to him as 'sir', or on some weird occasions as 'master'." The table looked at Garfield in confusion, "Yeah, like I said weird. But he was nice enough, kept me fed, clothed and generally looked after me so I wasn't exactly complaining. We never settled down in one lace for too long though, he was always flitting about, jumping from one country to the next. Each month, we suddenly packed up and moved to some other obscure place half way round the world. I was forced to learn the different languages wherever we went; he refused to translate anything for me and would never explain to people that I couldn't understand. I've got a pretty good grip of many languages, like Russian, or French. You know, stuff like that. But it wasn't just that. He also forced me to do other strange things as well," he paused for breath, taking a bite out of his forgotten sandwich that sat on the table.

When he finished that bite, with others around the table happily eating their meals as they listened, he continued, "He encouraged me to do things like pickpocketing, free running or acrobatics. He forced me to join the circus temporarily so I could learn how to do the acts as well as lie my way into a job. I had to pretend I was a midget! And that's not all; if we were in a marketplace, then he would make me pinch random things like jewellery or foodstuffs from stalls, then make me evade the Police, losing them if I could, for as long as possible. He taught me how to read people's faces, how to tell who they are and what their characteristics were just by examining their general appearance. He even taught me how to hack computers, and gave me a broad and extensive understanding of computers. I didn't realise it at the time, but he was _training_ me. I was his protégé." He took a couple more bites while he let that sink in for Alex. The scenario was becoming awfully familiar, much like he had been with his uncle. Ian had prepared him for spying.

"At the age of ten, I soon cottoned on to the fact that he was using me. After my ninth birthday, he had me going on these strange assignments for him, like stealing priceless artefacts, or planting viruses in company databases. It took me the whole year to come to the conclusion that the man was a crook, and had fashioned me into the perfect thief. I couldn't fight as he hadn't taught me yet how to, and I didn't think he ever would have. I don't think he wanted his pupil overtaking him and then overpowering him. I couldn't escape, I couldn't go to anyone as I'd made no connections since I'd been moved around so much. So it was only when we were out on an assignment that I got my chance to flee. We got separated by pure luck, and he gave me orders to meet him back at the hotel we were staying at in one hour. Well, one hour was all it took for me to steal a motorcycle, head to the nearest airport and hack the airport database to get me a ticket on any flight at all that didn't need a passport. It was the most frightening experience of my life. All throughout the flight I kept expecting him to suddenly sit down next to me and scold me for thinking I could get away. But he didn't and I found myself in France." He stopped again, finishing off the remaining morsels of his sandwich. Alex had listened earnestly, and hadn't realised he too was finished only when his fork clacked with the bottom of the tray.

"I was in a foreign country with no advisor, completely alone. I didn't dare go to the social services. I was only ten years old, but in my mind the social workers had let me down in being adopted by a man who had moulded me into a crook. But, he had done a good job, and at the time, the only option that was open to me was to do the things I do best to survive. I became a professional con artist, and did numerous side jobs as a thief. I called myself the Orphan. Corny I know, but I was ten. Interpol soon built up a huge case against me, and I was forced to evade them by moving around constantly, never staying anywhere longer than I had to. But as my reputation with Interpol increased, so did my credibility with the underworld. I was a big name, someone who was capable of even the most daring of challenges. I was earning thousands of pounds, which soon turned to millions. I was at the top of my game. But then I made a mistake." He paused, eyes flicking over all the teen's faces, watching their reactions. He knew it was quite the story, but it was his life, and he didn't normally like sharing it with people, especially those who resented him,

"I was approached by the Greek billionaire, Yannis Ariston Xenopolos who proposed an offer for me to steal the Elgin marbles for him. I had heard the rumours about Scorpia's plans being once again foiled by a teenage spy," both he and Alex smirked, "and Ariston was quite furious. He was a dying fool, who had put his trust in a crumbling empire, but now he had turned to me with a _very_ generous sum of money. So I accepted on the spot, unable to argue with that kind of cash and I was soon heading to Britain to start my mission. But I was intercepted. Ariston had set me up to fall right into the hands of MI6, just so he could be let off of his charges of being a cohort with Scorpia. The man was going to die, but they had given him the choice of either dying peacefully in his home country, or in some dank cell in absolute misery. The idea was to hand me over to Interpol in exchange for financial support from other countries to battle the recession, but they scheme and even better prospect. They then approached me, offering me a job with MI5. MI6 had lost you, but Mr Silver was adamant they had gone about the whole tirade the wrong way and mistreated you. The head of MI5 had seen your success, but realised that you had to apply teenage agents in a better more humane way rather than blackmail. Mrs Jones was against the idea, but cooperated with Mr Silver. Although they weren't blackmailing me, but I was stuck with two options, just like Ariston; live peacefully in Britain, or die rotting in a cell. I took the job and they somehow dropped the charges. That's how I came to work at MI5. I never quite did anything like you, I didn't even know how to defend myself when I joined, but what you did on your missions was completely insane; I could never begin to imagine even attempting the things you've done, Rider-boy. But MI5 isn't all about the exciting missions defending the nation. No MI5 deals with internal affairs, seeking out the tumours of the country and nullifying them. I wasn't a fight, Alex, I was a _thinker_; a strategist. I would deal with the grand schemes and problems that needed a much more complex solution rather than just sending someone to kill the bad guy. Like you, I was good at what I did, and within the space of a few short months during your absence, I became the highest ranking agent in all of MI5. But I think Mr Silver fast-tracked me to be fair, not that it matters. At the moment, I'm the one leading the investigation into Omega. I take it you've heard about Blunt?" Alex nodded, remembering what Ben had told him,

"Then you know that he agency is no longer secure. I've had to up my game, and that means I have to keep a close eye on you now. Whoever they are, they're clever. And I mean seriously clever… like evil overlord and mastermind kind of clever. We haven't been able to get a single scrap of evidence on them, and all we have now is a message in blood on the wall. They're toying with us, pushing our buttons to see what makes us tick, and I don't like it." Garfield stopped talking, having finished his long story of his past. Everyone round the table in awe, except for Tom who still had something on his mind,

"But it's blue!" Garfield groaned again,

"It's only blue because of an accident with one of Smithers' gadgets that I had to use on a mission once. I needed a hair dye that could corrode metal but not damage hair or skin, much like your zit cream. It had worked perfectly, and I had to use a special chemical formula to get it out, but apparently, if you leave it in too long it becomes permanent. I got most of it out, but this strand stayed," he prodded the offending article with a finger, "And I am _**not**_ shaving my head!"

The table burst into laughter again. Alex rubbed his head, a persistent headache knocking at his brain. It would seem that Alex and Garfield had a lot in common, despite his crooked background, he liked the boy. He was friendly with Tom and the girls, and he had come clean to Alex at long last with _too _much prompting. He supposed though, that if Garfield was in charge of the Omega investigation then he would just have to get used to having him around, and he might as well keep him close, in case things go wrong. He held out his hand to Garfield,

"Let's start again then shall we? Hi, I'm Alex Rider pleased to meet you." He took the hand and shook it,

"I'm Garfield Viking, and the pleasure's all mine. You're quite the legend, Rider-boy." The table laughed again, the threat of Omega and Garfield's story quickly forgotten.

"But _it's __**BLUE!**_" The bell rang as the four, newly five group of friends left the canteen to head to their lessons, howling in laughter at Tom's expense. Alex placed his tray and cutlery in the bucket full of cold soapy water to be washed, but he felt the piercing gaze of somebody looking at him. He looked up, just in time to see Mr Hatchet's sister leave through the double doors and into the kitchen. There was no one else in the room now, with everyone else having left for registration. Alex took one last look at the doors before racing after his friends.

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Alex's headache had only got worse during the remainder of the day, but he pulled through, having been used to the pain. He hadn't hung around with Tom, Garfield, Melissa and Eleanor, apologising for leaving so quickly, but he had a terrible headache. In fact, Alex would have called it a migraine now. They had understood, and Alex had patiently waited for his ride home. Today, it was Wolf, who pulled up and beckoned him over. The ride had been driven in pretty much silence, Wolf remarking how Alex looked a little dishevelled, and that he and the unit were having to go back to Brecon Beacons tomorrow to report in to the sergeant and give a report before heading all the way back to London. It was laborious, but Alex knew how the sergeant could get. He liked face to face reports, and not the thick, wordy kind. Alex had tried to listen intently, but he was really drowsy. He couldn't understand why, though. Maybe it was the sudden lack of excitement and adrenaline of the day for planning to capture Garfield? It didn't matter; he could lie down when he got home.

But that plan was blown out the water, when Alex found Ben home, who had managed to get off early due to the new security being infringed at MI6. He invited Wolf to stay for dinner, and the soldier took up the offer, saying that he would have had a take away anyway. Alex offered to help cook, not wanting to burden Ben despite his exhaustion, and soon he was dizzy and woozy from the heat of the kitchen. He thought Ben had asked him if he was okay at one point, but he had shrugged him claiming he was fine.

But Alex was far from it. He was getting painful cramps in his abdomen, and the migraine was just getting even worse. Once dinner was cooked, he had picked at it, not having the appetite, and had excused himself saying he was just tired from a hard day at school. Ben had asked about him about it, but Alex didn't reply, and was already slugging himself upstairs. A look of confusion passed between the two men. Alex was acting really strange.

And Alex knew that too. He was ill; seriously ill.

His stomach was hurting, and his arms and legs felt like they were on fire. The wounds were stinging, and Alex could do nothing to soothe the pain or inflammation. He felt like vomiting, but couldn't the gagging reflex caught in his throat. His head was going to explode, he was sure of it. He collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud, his limbs giving up on supporting his weight, even his arms were weak as he couldn't lift himself up off the floor by pulling on the sink. Alex gave a cry, mixed with frustration and pain.

Ben and Wolf had both heard the noise from upstairs. Ben rushed once more to Alex's aid, where he found the boy coughing and throwing up all over the bathroom tiles. The stench was horrible, but he didn't care as he hurried to the boy's side and tended to him, running through basic first aid. Wolf saw the state the teenager was in, and quickly made a call.

Alex's body was freezing, yet he was burning on the inside. He could hardly breathe, and every time he did he would choke on bile and foam that rose up his throat.

He felt awful, even with Ben there holding him and comforting him as he sobbed with racks of pain.

He felt like he was going to die.

The world faded to black, and his body fell limp.

**Gah! That was such a long chapter to write. I even put effort into the text-speak and all!**

**And so much information! Blunt, Blue and oh… Alex! And another cliff-hanger… I'm just that evil, aren't I? 8D **

**Poor Blunt, shame it's the end of the line for him. I'm almost sorry to see him go, but I agree with Alex.**

**Poor Blue! Now he's hardly mysterious anymore! Well, we'll have to see where that goes…**

**Poor Alex! There's never a dull moment in his life, is there?**

**Anyway, keep your reviews coming; they really help and spur me on. I stayed up late to write this one you know. Oh well, you'll just have to wait for the next chapter to see what happens next!**

**MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…. *cough* ¬_¬ **

**(Omega Symbol for those who don't know: ./imgres?q=omega&um=1&hl=en&sa=N&biw=1152&bih=692&tbm=isch&tbnid=kNPuOXeZmgiSeM:&imgrefurl=.&docid=4K2tsK7o3Dw-yM&w=400&h=400&ei=jcVDTpTkC8Wq8AOMkczsBQ&zoom=1&iact=rc&page=1&tbnh=153&tbnw=139&start=0&ndsp=15&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0)**

**Thanks again – K9**


	9. Poison

**I am so sorry that this took so long! Like I mentioned before, we're currently decorating and I have just spent the entire day crawling around under floorboards, and dragging around new electrics… so I am NOT in slightest bit amused.**

**And might I just say... WOW! Your reviews are, as always, incredible. I would never expect such great support. I mean sure I tell the story, but you are the one's that make it all worth it at the end of the day. **

**So where were we? Ah yes… Alex... dying…**

**Ah.**

Ben paced back and forth at the foot of Alex's bed, waiting for Snake's verdict. Wolf, in all fairness to him, had acted admirably under the pressure of their youngest team member dying, and Ben was ever so grateful that he had someone he could trust implicitly like the team medic. What was bothering him, though, was that Alex should be in a hospital right now, with dozens of trained professionals and state of the art medical equipment at his beckoning call, not stuck in his room miles away from St Dominic's.

He kept sneaking precious glances at the boy, whose unconscious form lay motionless tucked underneath the fuzzy blankets. His face was pale, the skin clammy and unnaturally cold. Each time ben turned to look, he had to force himself to breath, calming his nerves. He had never been this anxious in all his life.

Snake was holding the teen's limp hand, checking his pulse. He gave Alex another critical once over, and sighed, turning to Ben. He barely had a chance to speak before the older spy rudely interrupted,

"Well?"

"It's hard to say," Snake began, guilt washing over him as he saw Ben's face darken, "You were lucky I was nearby picking Ella up, otherwise had I been a second late, he would have died." A soft gasp came from behind Snake, which belonged to his daughter, who had, against her father's wished, barged up along with him, demanding to help. The act of concern fro Ella had raised suspicion, but Ben was accepting all the help he could get. So the girl had stayed, sitting at the boy's side whilst Snake had gone about checking vitals and handling the problem professionally. She hadn't left since; both her hands clasped tightly around one of Alex's own which lay atop the covers.

"It was poison, wasn't it?" Ben asked grimly, automatically fearing the worst. Snake nodded ruefully. Ben slumped down into the rocking chair he had dragged into Alex's room from his own. He had finished with his pacing, his mind weary and shattered. It was supposed to be his job to protect Alex, and he'd let him down. He couldn't forgive himself. He had allowed for this to happen. He rocked back and forth subconsciously, the gentle motion comforting him slightly. It was a habit he had picked up off his father, not that he was complaining.

"How bad is it?" he croaked.

"For now, it will be touch and go. The poison was slow acting, and his reluctance to act and take measures against it means that it's ben progressively building. I can't say he'll survive; his body is strained as it is already, and with slow acting poisons, it's unfortunately slow acting antidotes. It will take some time before you'll see any change in his health. I recommend you watch over him, as the next twenty four hours are crucial to his survival. If his heart rate drops, then you need to help him, if he stops breathing then act fast. He is highly unstable, so we can't transfer him to a hospital, but St. Dominic's called; they've received word from MI6 and have a doctor standing by who lives in the area. First sign of an emergency, call him. I can stay around for a little while longer, but K-Unit and I will have to leave for camp soon." Ben shivered at the thought of not having Snake on call. A doctor on call was great, but that doctor hadn't trained with Alex, he hadn't interacted with the boy at all, and Ben was just expected to trust him? The notion was absurd.

"Keep his fluids topped up, and let him rest. He's going to need it, as the next couple of hours will be hell for him. He'll have to be kept out of school, you do realise?" Snake asked, already thinking ahead, just as Ben was,

"I know. It won't go down well with the school, with more absences, but I don't have a choice, do I?"

Lion popped his head round the door, knocking softly,

"I'm ready to take Ella home…" he said, his voice trailing off at the sight of Alex. Lion hadn't known the boy long, but the little time he had spent with the boy he'd grown to like him. The kid was witty, and he had an interest in pretty much anything, and the two got on well. When Lion had heard about Alex suddenly falling ill he had worried, his heart silently going out to the poor lad. During his MI6 days, the man had been poisoned once as well by a Scopria agent. He survived, but the recovery was like being dragged over broken glass, then salt rubbed into the wounds. That was one of the reasons he had transferred to the SAS; the business killed you in the most unimaginable and horrific ways.

Ella stood p, reluctant to leave Alex's side,

"Can I come and visit?" She blurted out to Ben, "I mean Alex's friends and me. Can we come round after school to see him?" Ben thought silently, debating whether allowing a group of teenagers into his home with a dangerously sick child under his care, but he trusted Alex, and he trusted Ella. They wouldn't make bad friends. He nodded, and the girl heaved a sigh of relief as she was carted out of the door by Lion, who had volunteered to take the medic's daughter home after taking into account Alex's state. Once she left, Ben spoke up,

"You realise what this means, right?"

"Yes." Snake responded darkly, watching the boy's chest rise and fall with ragged breaths, a tin film of sweat making his pyjamas cling to his skin.

"Omega is in Alex's school. They knew he was there!" Ben hissed, careful not to wake Alex, "And we can't move him, that would raise unwanted questions of the school, and I doubt MI6 could hush it up before rumours spread. What am I supposed to do? I'll have to send him back, avoid the suspicion, but how could I send him back into the jaws of Omega again? Just to have him nearly killed al lover again? This is horrible. We have no option but to play into their hands, yet again! I haven't even seen him like this since he was shot!"

"Oh yes, the _appendicitis_ turned bullet wound, I had forgotten about-" Snake began, before he was cut off by Ben

"Oh, just DROP IT WILL YOU SULLIVAN!" he yelled, not caring to wake Alex, instead directing all his attention at screaming at Snake, "Alex was dying in my arms, and all _**you**_ can think about is complaining about petty **little** **ISSUES**!" Alex stirred slightly, but Ben failed to notice, "Do you know how that even felt? Imagine Ella dying as you held her as you could do nothing to help her! A tiny, precious life that you should protect just fading away…" Ben's voice broke at that moment, his words becoming silent as he choked back a sob. He felt horrible, like he had been torn in two.

"Ben?" Alex whispered, his voice cracked and pleading. Ben whirled around to see Alex, attempting to sit up, coughing under the exertion and pain.

"No, no, no, no Alex, you need to lie down and rest. You're okay, don't worry, you're going to be fine," Ben started as he stroked Alex's hair, gently pushing the boy back down into the bed. Snake went to say something, but the glare he received from Ben stopped him cold. It was even more petrifying than Wolf's, and Snake remembered that he had once seen that same look in his own eye's one before when Ella had been mugged once. The look was feral and instinctual, and radiated protection. He wasn't going to bother Ben anymore, not while he was in this state.

"We'll see you in a couple of days." He said just to announce to Ben that they were leaving but it looked a though the man hadn't even registered it as he lulled Alex to sleep. The medic slipped out the door, closing it gingerly behind him,

"Good luck, Alex."

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The burning pain kept coursing through Alex every time he woke up. His mind would clear of the fog briefly before his body was overloaded with searing heat and unbearable agony. It was vaguely aware of his surroundings, only occasionally recognising when Ben was talking to him, though the words were jumbled and incomprehensible. Other times Alex would feel the reassuring squeeze of his hand off Ben, or the stroking reminder on his hair. Ben had tried to get Alex to drink, but each time he did he would only retch it up again soon after, no matter how thirsty he was. Instead on keeping his concentration on his environment as his spying instincts told him, he focused on breathing and sleeping instead, confiding in himself that he already had one spy watching his back. It was hard work, breathing, as each time he drew a lungful of air he felt his chest compress and his stomach lurch, threatening to convulse again should Alex push himself too far. The torment went on for hours, with Alex slipping in and out of restless sleep. It was gone noon when Alex finally managed to keep himself awake for longer than five minutes,

"Ben?" he called out again. Sur enough, the spy was at his side in a flash, the rocking chair idly swinging back and forth from the abandoned momentum.

"Alex, you should be sleeping. Go on, back to sleep. You need to save your energy."

Alex winced, yet more waves of pain hitting him, but the feeling was numbed now, he could bear it a little more and kept his eyes open,

"Ben, I'm cold…" he whispered, voice hoarse. Ben stroked his hair again, their hands reaching out and interlacing with each other,

"I know, but it'll be over soon, you just need to be strong," Ben said, at a loss as to what to say. He was mortified at the prospect of being helpless, so he had remained by Alex's side all throughout the day, only occasionally leaving to fetch some water or relieve himself, or when he had had to go and phone to school informing them Alex was sick and unable to attend. He had even adamantly refused to turn up at MI6 today since he was so worried.

"It hurts…" the boy whimpered, hand clinging even tighter, Ben's hand being squeezed uncomfortably. But he endured, still soothing the troubled teen. Another wave of pain and Alex's back arched, unprepared for the sudden spike that powered through him. His grip was relentless as he struggled to stay awake. Ben pushed the teen back down, calming him.

Before Alex slipped back into unconsciousness, he felt a kiss lightly graze his forehead. A small affectionate smile spread across his face before his eyelids fluttered closed.

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It was gone four when Alex awoke a second time, the pain throbbing persistently, but mildly. Ben wasn't in the room, the door hanging a little ajar and Alex heard the sound of shuffles and murmurs coming from the hall. He lay there, listening to the footsteps heading up the stairs, counting more than just one pair.

Ben popped his head round the door, smiling warmly at Alex,

"You've got visitors, kid,"

The man stepped aside, holding the door open for Tom, Mel, Ella and Garfield to enter. Garfield took one look at Alex, before grasping Ben's arm and pulling him out the room. He heard a hiss of words fade as they left for downstairs, leaving him with his three friends. A moment of awkward silence hung between them, as neither knew what exactly to say.

"Mr Hatchet seemed happy you weren't in today," Tom began, breaking the quiet. Mel and Ella hastily added their agreement, and Alex chuckled before breaking into a coughing fit,

"You guys don't have to act like it doesn't affect you, you know," he wheezed between breaths, "You all know I was poisoned, Ella told you. You just can't keep a secret, can you El?"

Ella looked angry for a minute before controlling her emotions. She moved calmly to Alex's side before abruptly slapping him hard across the face. Tom and Mel reeled back slightly, horrified at Ella's display of violence,

"What was that for?" Alex exclaimed, rubbing his now sore and red cheek pouting.

"Don't you dare, Alex Rider, _dare _ever joke about nearly dying again," she threatened, "Or being poisoned, or being shot at, or snow boarding down a mountain on an ironing board, I don't care." Although the two teenagers behind her couldn't see it, Ella's eyes were beginning to water, on the verge of tears. Alex's expression softened,

"Guys, could you give us a minute?" he asked, looking past Ella at the other two. They nodded in understanding, and made their exit to wait outside the room. Alex knew they were going to try and listen in, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to start hiding to his friends.

Ella sat down on the side of Alex's bed whilst he shuffled upwards into a sitting position,

"You nearly died, Alex," she said, tears slowly trickling down her face, "I just sat there whilst you died…"

"But I didn't, and that's all that matters. Your dad saved me. I owe him a lot." An evil smile spread across the girl's face,

"Yes, speaking of debts, you still owe me a date, Alex Rider. I hope this whole poison thing wasn't just a get out clause?" Alex chuckled,

"I wouldn't even dream of it."

"Good," Ella said, happy by his response, "Because if you had died without taking me on a date, then I would have killed you myself."

The two laughed weakly, the absurdity washing away the misery. The laugh died down slowly, and Ella leant across to Alex. The boy knew what she was doing, and leant into the kiss. It was soft and tentative, but nice all the same. To be honest, for Alex, it felt amazing, far better than it had been with Sabina. Even the mention of her name didn't bring up regret or guilt anymore. Just as quickly it had started, the two broke away,

"Wow, well that was… um… strange," Ella rambled sheepishly, "Not bad strange, but great strange. Well, actually it was fantastic, but I… err… I never expected it to be like this. My first kiss was with a poisoned teenage superspy… who'd have guessed?" she laughed meekly, her cheeks flushed red that just made Alex's heart melt. Okay, he would admit it now. He was in love,

"That's was your first kiss?"

"Yeah, wasn't it yours? Or has Mr Superspy had many women in his life?" She asked, covering up her disappointment with humour, making Alex's heart drop a little.

"There was this one girl, Sabina. But she's in the past, we went our separate ways. I don't want her now; I want you." Ella face burned a violent shade of red now, and Alex thought she was going to pass out from sheer embarrassment.

"Well, whatever she did, I can do better," Ella added, giving Alex a seductive wink, back to her old usual self. The two laughed hysterically at the innuendo, and Alex already feeling miles better. With the scare of death forgotten, the two teens, joined by Tom and Mel, began talking, happily enjoying Alex's company which they had all missed, just glad that he was okay.

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Downstairs, however, Ben and Garfield argued.

"They want to what?" Ben hissed, his voice dangerous and menacing.

"Jones and Silver want Alex moved. They say the threat of Omega now being in Brooklands is an irrational risk to security, and must be dealt with accordingly," Garfield explained once more, unhappy that he had to be the bearer of bad news.

"They can't! I won't let them," Ben growled, his tone was near ferocious, and Garfield was genuinely scared of the man for a fleeting instance,

"I wouldn't worry Ben. It's their _recommendation_, not order. This is my inquiry, and at the end of the day it's my call. Alex's is staying here," Ben let out a heavy sigh of relief, letting the pent up oxygen flow out his lungs, "But not because you're emotionally involved." The older spy looked at the teen, setting Ben with a fixed stare,

"Moving Alex would increase the chance of Omega infiltrating his life. We already know that they've breached the agency, and adding another agent into the equation will only raise the probability of another flummox in security." The technician began, idly tugging at the strand of blue hair that hung over his right eye, "And secondly, another move for Alex will disrupt everything all over again. We'd raise the suspicion of civilian parties involved and will give us the unwarranted attention of Omega."

"But we can't just send him back to the school know that we know for certain they're there!" Ben argued, unhappy about the situation,

"I'm afraid there's not much we can do. Omega has played the game incredibly well, and has us in a tight spot. From now on we're going to have to play our cards extremely carefully if we're to avoid anymore slip-ups." Ben raised an eyebrow in confusion at the metaphor, but whether Garfield saw it or not, he didn't know as the boy continued regardless, "We're playing a dangerous game here, and one false move could doom the entire operation. Alex is one of our most vital pieces. If he goes, then the game is over before it's even begun. For now, all we can do is carry on our investigation and wait for the next move, or for them to make a mistake. Unfortunately, it will most likely be the former."

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Alex awoke a third time that night, unhappy that his biological clock was askew. He snuggled back down to sleep when his feet hit something heavy at the end of his bed. Perplexed, he pulled himself up to peek at the perpetrator. There, at the foot of his bed, was an obscenely large stuffed toy fox, with a note wrapped around one of its legs.

A gentle snoring from Alex's reminded the boy of Ben's presence. The man was slouching in the rocking chair having fallen asleep whilst watching over his sick ward. Curious, Alex picked the stuffed animal up, his hands caressed by the soft fabric. He plucked out the note, unravelling it and began reading:

_Alex,_

_If you're reading this, I'm probably either asleep, downstairs, or elsewhere. I didn't want to actually have to tell this face to face as it might've been awkward and I didn't know if you'd react badly._

_This is 'Fox'. He used to mine when I was little, a gift from my grandfather before he passed away. Each night, I slept with hi min my arms until I grew out of the habit. That isn't to say I don't want him, but I'm a grown man now, and I see why my granddad handed it down to me._

_At the time I had been ill. Very ill, and it was feared that I wouldn't make it through the night. It's ironic that the same event should happen to you as well… but that's hardly funny, is it? Anyway, I was given the toy so as to keep me company, and to comfort me when I needed it. Suffice to say it worked, and I made a full recovery._

_So here is 'Fox', which I am handing down to you. You can keep him, regardless of whether MI6 take you away again, or we get separated, he will always be yours; something to always remember me by, no matter what._

_Love Ben._

Alex let a single tear drop. He furiously scrubbed it away, not understanding why it was getting to him. It was a nice thought, but the notion of sleeping with a cuddly toy was embarrassing to say the least.

But ben had gone to the trouble of keeping a family tradition, entrusting Alex with something that he had held so dearly to him.

'Sod it,' Alex thought, examining Fox at arms length, 'If anyone insults me because of this, then I'll punch their lights out.'

With that, he hunkered down under the duvet, tucked Fox under his arm and drifted off to sleep. Unbeknown to Alex, the older spy peeked through his slit eye at him, smiling, as he too tried to get back to sleep in the uncomfortable rocking chair.

He didn't want to disturb Alex after all…

**There, finished. Mushy stuff again, but I'm setting the ball rolling for later events. The chapter was slightly short, but trying to maintain sickness and interest are two very complicated tasks.**

**Mentions to:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks, Nikki the Spy, Scamp87 and Albany: You know me too well and have successfully guessed the part of next chapter, so therefore you get a virtual cookie, and this chapter dedicated to you. ****Spoiler warning: Don't read their reviews if you don't want to know what has happened to Alex and the poison.**

**Monkey DeRanged: Thank you for **_**your**_** review. It is always nice to hear from people what they like and what they think I should focus on. **

**Iamawsom: Sorry for the cliff-hangers, but it **_**is**_** a mystery genre. Plus, I always like to keep my readers hooked, be it on a cliff-hanger or a pleasant ending that begs for more. Sorry… :/**

**Anyway, keep reading; we have some promising stuff up ahead with Ben, Alex and family!**

**Thanks – K9**


	10. Brothers

**This chapter is dedicated to PumpkinPumpkin, who unlike me, managed to point out the most creepiest thing in all my life. In her review, she noticed that Alex had been eating lasagne, and that Blue was called Garfield. Obviously making the connection with our favourite fat ginger cat, I applaud them, and that is the reason why. It's the little things I never seem to notice that you guys do… find anymore that I failed to spot, and a chapter will go your way!**

**Onto chapter 10:**

Rinsing off the soap suds, Alex stepped out the shower and wrapped himself in a large fluffy towel that had been laid out by the ever-thoughtful Ben. It was Ben who had even suggested that Alex take a shower the ease his aching muscles over yesterday's horrors, and once again, the man had had the right idea; Alex felt much better than he had been several hours ago.

Alex headed back to his room, noticing how comfortable he felt to walk around the older spy's home. He had only been living there for just under a week, and despite that week's hectic commotion of mysterious spies, revelations, kidnaps, murders and poisonings, Alex had grown accustomed to the man's abode, and grown even closer to Ben himself.

He started to get dressed, get dressed, preparing himself for school. He was feeling fine now with the poison in his system clearing and his health returning to normal he had assumed he would go back to school straight away so as to not miss anymore vital work. Ben knocked at the door, giving Alex time to make himself decent before allowing the older spy in,

"I just called K-Unit to let them now that you made it through the night," Ben started, noticing Alex's garments, "And you can forget about school. You're not going." Alex opened his mouth to question, but his guardian got there first, "Snake told me you'll need time to recuperate, giving your body time to properly purge he poison," he giggled at that, "Try saying that five times fast…"

Alex, however was not amused, "So I'm just supposed to sit around doing nothing while I miss catching up?" he asked incredulously. Didn't Ben know he was far enough behind as it is, especially with mandatory school exams coming up?

"Honestly Alex, I would have agreed with you, but on this occasion I'm siding with Snake. The poison that you'd been administered was vicious. Agent Viking is running tests to see if we can get anything, but we aren't hoping for much." Alex was curious now, as he hadn't had time for any contemplation on who tried to kill him,

"_How _was the poison administered, exactly?"

"Via ingestion, but that doesn't make sense. Why would you willing eat something that's poisoned?"

The truth hit Alex like a sledgehammer. Mr Hatchet. It had to have been. And his sister too! It was clever, so clever that Alex hadn't noticed it. It was Mr Hatchet who had put the poison in his food, then placed himself so that Alex would ruin his own, giving the opportunity to hand over the unknowingly poisoned lasagne. No wonder it had tasted off, but how had Mr Hatchet known Alex was behind him, how had known that Alex was going to be the first kid to come out of hat line. Without having looked directly back over his shoulder, Alex could've been any unsuspecting pupil. But it was Hatchet's sister who had signalled him, a simple wipe of the nose had given it away, practically screaming to him that the boy had been right behind him. Then when he had finished, she had stuck around, to make sure that he had indeed taken the poison and that the mission hadn't failed. It had been so simple and easy that it had slipped under Alex's watchful gaze. He'd have to hold his wits about him now to avoid catastrophes such as this. He had never seen ben so scared before.

"I know who did it." Alex stated calmly. Ben urged him to continue,

"Go on…"

"There's a teacher at my school, Mr Hatchet. He's my form tutor. Investigate him and his sister who works as one of the kitchen staff. They were the one's that poisoned my food."

Ben nodded slowly, before repeating to an annoyed Alex that he most certainly did **not **have school again today, before ducking out the door as Alex threw a bundle of socks at the laughing man, unhappy at being mocked.

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Alex trudged moodily down the stairs. Unlike most teenagers, he looked _forward_ to going to school. He had missed so much since the last year it was hard for him to quench the yearning for learning.

Ben was on the phone to the school receptionist, trying to inform the babbling woman that Alex wouldn't be in today. It seemed that Miss Critter (which Alex now knew had replaced Miss Bedfordshire, who had left to travel the world with her fiancé) was quite irritated, and had resorted to ranting at the poor man as he had called at an inconvenient time.

Alex smirked whilst Ben silently pleaded for help, but Alex shook his head, watching Ben visibly squirm under the pressure of the woman, despite her being as far away as can be. Alex had to get payback somehow.

By the time Ben had gotten a word in edgeways, he fell silent, a look of confusion spreading across his face. Alex asked him what was wrong, but Ben just held up his hand to silence the boy for a moment,

"Yes, hello?... Oh, hello… Yes my name's Benjamin Daniels… Yes I'm Alex's guardian I would've thought that was obvious…" he said, Alex completely unaware as to the other side of the conversation, "You want me to come in? Well, of course, I don't see why not. I'll have to drop by work though beforehand, is that okay?... Oh, don't worry. I can find someone to watch over Alex, he's still recovering unfortunately… Goodbye, I'll see you at one o'clock." Ben placed the phone back into its holder, it latching in with a dull thud. The man turned to Alex's still puzzled expression, "That was your headmaster. He wants me to come in and 'discuss your current situation'. Just leave it to me, I'll handle it."

Alex snorted. _Now_ they were finally taking an interest in him only after he'd settled down. He gasped inwardly. He had not just thought that. Why did that come so natural to him?

"Looks like I'm going to have to find someone to watch over you while I'm gone."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Alex exclaimed indignantly, for the second time in the morning where Ben had coddled him,

"Yes you do Alex," He started scratching the top of his head, "Because if I'm not here and something bad happens while I'm out, like you having a sudden and deadly reaction to either the poison or the antidote, or you getting attacked by operatives. No, someone needs to be here to watch your back whilst you recover, and like Snake said, you need to let your body purge the rest of the poison before you try anything reckless."

Alex sighed. Ben was, as always, right. Although he felt better, his body still ached, and he doubted his muscles were up to the task of fending off armed attackers. The day just couldn't get any worse, that was, unless Ben called in some MI6 agent to look after him… He shuddered at the thought.

In Ben's head, last night's chat with Garfield had spread some light on the whole situation. Every time more agents were included into Alex's life, the higher the risk of Omega getting to him. So he needed someone he could trust _implicitly_. His mind wandered to K-Unit, a perfect choice usually, as they were on stand-by twenty-four seven for Alex's protection. But they were reporting to the sergeant, miles away in Wales at Brecon Beacons. In that case, Snake's wife perhaps? She was reliable. No, she was looking after their other three year old daughter, Harriet. It wouldn't be fair to drag her into the mess that is Omega, including threatening Eagle's goddaughter. But who then? His eyes wandered the room idly, his brain working in overdrive to come up with at least one plausible solution. His eyes passed over the family portrait above the fireplace, inspiration firing up inside him. Yes, they'd be perfect…

Alex was startled when Ben snapped his fingers, his face lit up in elation. His guardian snatched the phone back up and began to dial furiously. The man coaxed the boy to get some solid food down him, as he hadn't eaten at all since yesterday. Alex was, indeed, ravenous, and had given in easily to Ben's suggestion. He began to chomp at his toast whilst glancing to see Ben leave the room, closing the door shut behind him so Alex couldn't hear.

The teen wolfed down what was offered to him, his stomach growling for satisfaction. Ben had taken the consideration into making extra large amounts toast and orange juice, understanding that Alex would have naturally been starving. By the time he came back, the boy was gulping down the remaining dregs of freshly-squeezed juice.

"Alex," Ben said, getting ready to leave for work, "I'm gonna have to go now, but I have some people coming round to watch over you. You should get to know them; they might visit occasionally in the future now they know about you. I'll see you later." Ben made to leave, but seeing Alex's slightly upset face made him stop, and backtrack a little. He stepped over and pulled Alex into a light but reassuring hug, ruffling the boy's hair,

"They're friendly, so don't worry. They'll let themselves in, and they understand you Alex. They _know_." Ben added the final bit with emphasis, hinting to Alex that they might just possibly now about him and MI6. Ben left, closing the door shut behind him after issuing another quick farewell.

Alex huffed, unsure of what to do In the meantime. He hadn't had much chance to explore the place yet; Ben had no TV as far as he knew, and the computer was hardly entertaining without any proper games. Decided that he would root around a little, Alex set off on his excursion, awaiting the arrival of the mysterious babysitters.

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It was about fifteen minutes after Ben had left that Alex's babysitter's turned up. He was meandering through Ben's office, admiring the sheer volume of books the man had and wondering how on earth the man had managed to fit so many into such a small space when they had arrived. He quietly closed the door, hearing it click in the lock as the front opened and shut with a slam.

"Alex?" he heard a man call out, his voice much deeper than Ben's, but just as friendly. There was a thick Liverpudlian accent to it as well, "Alex, Ben sent us."

Alex walked down the stairs, coming into the sight of two men. The tallest was sturdy looking, with a little bit of a gut to him, but not entirely noticeable. He had broad shoulders, and stood just a little taller than Ben, with his hair the same coal black and shared the same style cut, more or less..

The second man was smaller, but only fractionally. He too had the same coal black hair, but it was much longer, draping a little at the sides. Both had warm blue eyes, just like Ben's, and it was then that Alex realised the similarity between the two men and Ben. Although, in the picture hanging above the fireplace had been done quite a while ago, he could easily make the connection.

"You're Ben's brothers, aren't you?" The smaller man nodded,

"Right you are," he said his voice lighter but just as gentle, still laden with that Liverpudlian accent, "We were quite shocked when we heard about Benny having fostered a kid from work. I would never have imagined him becoming a father before getting married."

"Me neither. What would Mum and Dad think if they found out?" The two men chuckled, leaving Alex astonished at their bluntness.

"Ben's not my father…" he mumbled.

"Kid, you live with him, don't you?" Alex nodded, "And he's been looking after you, right?" Another nod, "Plus, we know that he's given you that stuffed fox of his, so yeah kid, you're his son." Alex was both amazed and embarrassed by the candid approach the smaller man took to life. It was definitely unique, to say the least.

"Terry, don't alienate the kid. Oh, names! I'm William, but just call me Will. I'm Ben's older brother."

"And I'm your Uncle Terry, or Terence to you kid, I'm not picky. You're looking at the youngest of the bunch!" William shook his head at his brother's antics whilst watching him head into the living room,

"Forgive him; he can be quite… daunting to new people. He's an alright fella once you get to know him. It's great to finally meet you; Ben's mentioned you a couple of times before over the phone. And that, by the way, was Terry's way of saying he likes you. Never lets anyone call him by his first name unless he does," Alex obediently and politely held out his hand for Will to shake, whilst intently listening in the other room of Terry's shuffling footsteps. But Will just chuckles, pulling Alex into what he would've assumed to be a brotherly hug. Alex stood there abashed, but soon recovers as he is steered into the living room. In the kitchen, he spies Terry rifling through the fridge. Alex was horrified. These men not even be Ben's brothers! They could be here to burgle the house or kidnap him! But then why was he routing through the kitchen?

"Wow!" He heard shouted fro the kitchen, Terry's voice muffled by the surrounding fridge, "Benny's really stocked up. He must be taking the whole parenting thing seriously!" The older man beside Alex sighed,

"Get your head out the fridge you dope. We're not here to pry; we're here to look after Alex." Okay, so the men knew about Ben needing someone to look after him, but the phones could've been bugged,

"We're chefs you see," Will explained Alex's unvoiced question, "Well, he is anyway. Fantastic one, too, but I'm more of the manager. I deal with finances and often wait tables."

"So you own a restaurant then?" Alex asked, keeping his wits about him. The man nodded and turned to his brother, moaning at him for being a 'culinary creep'. Whilst they were distracted, Alex ran through scenarios in his head and what to do. He might have to run if they do turn out to be hired mercenaries, he definitely couldn't fight, not in his condition. Right on cue, as though to emphasise the point to himself, he erupted into a sudden coughing fit, his body apparently not done with hindering his well being. The two men turned around, looks of concern etched upon their faces. With Will being he closest to the teen, he had reached out to pat the boy's back, only to be shunned away by Alex's glare. The man was taken aback, but nevertheless let Alex recover.

"Sorry 'bout that," Alex mumbled, still uncomfortable around the strange men, wiping his mouth with a tissue from box set on the coffee table, "Still getting over my cough." It was the lie he had com up with in the short fifteen minutes he had been alone, not wanting to explain the near-death torture he had been through not hours before. Will spoke up, not giving the chance for the boy to carry on with the excuse,

"You mean still recovering from the poison," Alex looked up in sudden shock. They knew? Was this what Ben had meant when he had told Alex that they knew about him? "Ben told us everything. You don't have to hide, Alex."

"Yeah, kid. We know all about Ben, and you, and MI6 even. We don't know much, but we know enough to understand," Terry spoke, leaning against the back counter where ben normally stood in the mornings during breakfast, "We've signed the Official Secrets Act, had to since Ben put us down as next-of-kin; he didn't want to worry Mum and Dad." Alex gave them a sceptic look,

"Prove it…" he said. It was harsh, but he had to make sure in case he was to avoid being nearly killed again. Terry seemed to understand,

"We knew about Ben giving you that fox of his, didn't we?" That was true, they had known about Fox, and that had happened only last night. Nobody else could've known.

"Look, kid. You're just going to have to trust us, alright?" The elder brother stated rather matter-of-factly. That too was true, but Alex had already decided in his mind. He trusted Ben, so he trusted his brothers too.

"So, tell me about Ben…" Alex asked, inviting the men into a conversation. After all, it was a golden opportunity to do some digging.

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At exactly quarter past twelve, Ben Daniels arrived at Brooklands. He hadn't wanted to wait, knowing full well that a meeting about Alex with he headmaster might take quite some time when considering Alex's previous reputation. He had come straight from the bank, wanting advice on how to proceed. MI6 intervention wouldn't be appropriate for such a menial task, and it was just a simple domestic issue. As Alex's guardian, it would be conceived as normal for him to play along with standard educational rules and protocol. They were just doing they're job, at the end of the day. So, with their story laid out and memorised, Ben had set off for the school with a plan in his head.

Miss Critter had _not_ been happy at all to see Ben, especially because he was early. She had informed – though it was more of an order than anything – that he should take a seat and wait for his allotted appointment.

Alex constantly strayed into his thoughts. William and Terence were good men, and Ben had relied upon them more than once in the past to do favours for him for MI6, knowing full well that they would never ask anything of him. They knew about his job, and tried to keep from interfering, for all of their sakes. Terry was the most forthright, being a blunt and frank character, whilst William was quiet, but the ever present role model. Ben had been the middle child, neither good nor bad at anything, whilst his brother's excelled at what they set themselves to do. Terry was a professional cook, having taught Ben, whilst Will was a good mathematician, being an accountant before he went into the business of the family restaurant. His parents had dedicated their lives to the small but lively establishment on the other side of London, having moved there when Terry was barely five. They had poured their heart and soul into the family and into the restaurant, and the boy had grown up strong and independent. Ben had never much liked the restaurant however, repulsed at the fact that his family seemed to assume that he would just fall into line somewhere within is designated rank. That was why he had joined the army, to prove his usefulness and to escape the fate of a family business. It was only after he was recruited for the SAS that he learnt the had never expected such things, only that he do what he felt was right, just like his brothers had encouraged him to take on the assignment of caring for Alex, as he had been apprehensive about the prospect, since he thought that Alex resented him after Dragon Nine. It was, however, the right thing to do, and felt right as his brothers had kept reminding him. The family motto had been _Think with Heart and Mind_, quite apt for Ben's line of work, and he most definitely had thought long and hard about Alex's dilemma. He remembered his vow to help the boy, and by his life he was going to keep.

A tall, lanky man dressed in a dark grey and depressing suit entered into the receptionist area, handing Miss Critter a file,

"I want these changes made to the school canteen. It would seem we've received complaints about food safety from concerned parents."

Ben stifled a chuckle, and instead let a knowing smile form on his lips. He had mentioned to Mrs Jones that Alex had been poisoned by food at his school, and it was now obvious they were taking precautions. Whether Alex had been poisoned by this dinner lady or by his teacher he didn't know, but it looked like MI6 weren't going to take any chances with Alex's life.

"Right away, Mr Riddle," Miss Critter said, her voice oozing with sickly happiness. So this was Mr Riddle, Alex's headmaster. He certainly was disappointing, from Ben's perspective of him over the phone, he was expecting someone a little more… _impressive_.

The dreary man noticed Ben sitting on the other side of the room,

"Ah! Ben Daniels, I presume?" He nodded, standing up and meeting Mr Riddle's outstretched hand, "Miss Critter, why did you not inform me that Mr Daniels had arrived?" The woman shrugged, incessantly pummelling the keyboard with her fingers, lost in her own world of administration. Mr Riddle wasn't fazed, and still shaking his hand, lead Ben out of the reception area and down the corridor.

"I'm a little early," Ben began to protest, realising that Mr Riddle was taking him to his office, "I can wait, if you'd like?"

"Nonsense!" The dreary man bellowed with a throaty cackle, "It's quite alright; I would have been watching paint dry had you not come along! I trust Alex is well?" Ben nodded as a large foreboding door was held open for him. He stepped inside, remembering his manners and thanking the headmaster. The office was something else that was for sure. Where as the man who spent most of his time in here was ancient and feeble, the office was outstanding; a huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, gathering dust and cobwebs. Towering bookcases lined one side of the room, whilst on the other grimy windows looked out across the school grounds. The floor was a bare wood, and creaked underneath Ben's foot eerily. Scattered around the room, there was an assortment of antiques, each varying in purpose and value. In one corner stood a large novelty globe, constructed entirely from cast iron, and behind Ben, standing each side of the door were two intimidating suits of armour. The office looked more like it had come straight from a wealthy mansion, and Ben had to imagine how much money had gone into this one room.

"He's recovering, Mr Riddle, but it was quite a nasty bug that got him. I didn't want to push him given his past experiences and all…" Ben's voice trailed off, implying the already known fabricated story of a weak immune system.

"But of course. But, I gathered though from teachers that Alex was in a much better state than when he was a year ago?"

"Yes, so I was told as well, but his doctor has now told me that he may have bouts such as this from time to time," Ben explained, running over the story MI6 had provided, "Alex is a good kid, I've found. He _really_ doesn't want to miss school at all considering the circumstances." Mr Riddle nodded in agreement,

"I'm sure, and he wouldn't want to miss important work especially with the exams coming up and all." Exams? Alex had exams coming up? He filed away the information for later. For some reason, he doubted he was going to get an easy answer from this man, "But I would particularly like to talk about Alex's previous year here at Brooklands, if that's alright with you. I hear that you have only _recently_ become Alex's guardian?" Ben nodded,

"That's right Mr…"

"Please, call me Edgar!"

"That's right _Edgar_," Ben cringed, the name sounded false and irregular, "Alex has had some trouble, both physically and emotionally. I'm working with him, but you have to give me time-"

"Mr Daniels, I am normally a very accepting man, but what my predecessor before me failed to notice was not the fact that Alex would be gone, only to return sickly or unwell, but instead littered with bruises and unexplained injuries." Ben's heart beat faster. Could this man have made connections where others haven't and figured out Alex's secret? MI6 might have to get involved after all, "Now, one might suspect abuse, but that does not answer the legal documentation we have been provided with; appropriate notes from doctors, official prescriptions of powerful drugs for a multitude of illnesses and ailments that it is almost impossible for one singular boy to have. Now, I may just be, how shall we say, _barking up the wrong tree_, but I am very much concerned about Alex's past, and I believe you should be too. I sense that something is afoot, and I **will** get to the bottom of it Mr Daniels. I understand this is of no fault of yours and together I hope we can clear some of the mystery surrounding Alex. You need not worry; your son is in safe hands."

But Ben was doing quite the opposite. Alex's cover will be blown, his life shredded into pieces. He would have to consult MI6, possibly even Agent Viking; it was _his_ idea to bring Alex back to the UK, he should deal with the threat of exposure. This was a nightmare!

"But for now, Mr Daniels, I would also like to discuss Alex's grades…"

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"So let me get this straight," Alex said, sitting on one of stools, "You call Ben _Benny_ because your grandmother, my _great-grandmother_ calls him that?" Terry nodded,

"Family joke at first, but it son caught on. Nearly all the family uses it now, 'cept Mum and Dad."

Alex nodded. He had learnt a lot of the two brothers, finally realising, much to the two men's humour that Ben _did_ have a TV, it was just very cleverly concealed. He raised the question with them, to which they had taken a remote from the coffee table that Alex had noticed before, pressed a button and from behind the portrait emerged a large, flat screen TV. They had laughed while Alex gasped at the size of the thing. How the hell did that thing fit behind the picture?

He now knew that Ben was one of three brothers, who lived across London and owned a family restaurant. He knew that pretty much each of them had their own nickname, and that their family was spread far and wide apart across the globe. His parents, for example, were having an extended holiday in Australia, since Ben had invited them along after his mission with Alex. They were going to stay there for another couple of months before returning, as they were growing quite close to the nation and its people.

He'd also learnt that Ben was incredibly close to his brothers, understanding that after a particular incident involving MI6 they had grown much tighter bonds. Alex had found that they were thrilled of having a nephew, with William only having a child on the way, he _was_ going to be the first brother to have kids, but they had joked when they said Ben – or 'the bloody cheat' a they had called him – had beaten them to it. Terry was in a long distance relationship, but his girlfriend, who was a doctor, was handing out free medical care in third world countries. When she returned, he planned on proposing to her. Alex had congratulated both men, but they had shrugged it off, telling him that at the moment, he was the more important thing, and that he had three months left before the family began to coo over Will's new-born.

It was a nice thought, to Alex, that these men considered him part of their family already ,even though he might be around once the whole mess of Omega was cleared up, and that thought scared him the most. Once Omega was gone, what would happen to Alex? He would have to leave, surely, as this _was_ only a temporary arrangement for his safety, but he had grown fond of Ben and accustomed to having K-Unit and his friends around him again back here in England. Would he just be yanked anyway from it all, all over again?

"You hungry kid?" Terry spoke again, interrupting Alex's train of thought. Instead of answering, his stomach decided to growl, ignoring what Alex's head said. HE smile sheepishly as the brothers laughed. Terry turned around, pulling out random vegetables and the ginormous elusive chicken that Alex had almost forgotten **(You'd think I'd forgotten that, HADN'T you, dear readers!)**. Moving at a pace far faster than Alex thought humanly possible, the youngest brother, aged only twenty-two to Alex's surprise, began dicing vegetables and throwing them into a large pan left conveniently out by Ben when Alex had made pasta. The teen took a step back admiring the brisk and intricate work of the chef as he prepared what Alex thought to be some kind of stew or soup. Will engaged him in a little conversation in regards to school, but before Alex could realise, a bowl of steaming hot soup lay before him.

He was handed a spoon, and he tentatively took a sip of the broth, marvelling at its texture and taste. Now Alex wasn't a fan of soups, but what Terry had managed was to turn simple little ingredients into a bowl of pure unadulterated heaven,

"This is really good," he said, gesturing to the soup as he took another mouthful. Alex could taste all sorts of spices, but most of all he could taste the succulent chicken washing over his palate.

"Chicken soup; my own recipe," Terry stated as he washed a couple of knifes he had been using, "Always a good pick-me-up after being ill, regardless if it be poison or a cold." Alex thanked the man, greedily attacking the soup with no mercy whatsoever. Breakfast had been good, but this was exquisite.

"So… Do you know what Ben plans on doing for his birthday?" William asked nonchalantly. Alex stopped eating; spoon halfway to his mouth,

"Birthday?" he inquired, completely oblivious, "When's it Ben's birthday?"

"A couple of days from now, after the weekend," Terry explained, "Normally, he would have called us and the family go out somewhere Ben picked. But in recent years, Benny's been trying to push it off, saying he's a grown man and doesn't need to have a party just to celebrate his birthday. Last year for example, we had to call him at the last minute and invite him round to our restaurant."

"This year though, we don't want to force him into anything he doesn't want. It's his choice, not ours, at the end of the day." Will said, continuing his brother's explanation. In Alex's head, things were clicking into place, and schemes were forming.

"I have an idea…" he said, evilly and slowly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, "But I'm going to need your help." The brothers mirrored his sinister grin, deeply engrossed in what Alex had to say.

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When Ben came back home, he was surprised not only to find his two brothers getting on ell with Alex, but also with his friends. The four teenagers had come round again since Alex had yet again been absent from school, and were thoroughly relieved that he was okay now, and making a full recovery. He smiled at the sight, happy that Alex had accepted Will and Terry into his life. He had been worried that Will's protectiveness and Terry's forthright attitude might have made Alex a little uncomfortable, but if that had been the case he certainly didn't show it now.

"Afternoon everyone," Ben called out, hanging up his jacket. He smelt wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen, and was pleasantly surprised to see that Alex and Terry were cooking together, with his brother teaching Alex a special technique he only shared out with the family.

'Yep,' Ben thought, 'definitely one of the family.'

Ben had been briefly introduced to Alex's friends when they had visited yesterday, and he now knew each of their names. Tom and Mel were the only odd ones out of the group though; as he was glad Alex had found friendship with Snake's daughter and his MI5 peer.

As he entered the living room, he briefly overheard Tom wittering on about the exams,

"It's not fair!" he whined, sitting on the sofa upside down so that his legs were hanging over the back and his head was lolling over the edge, "Alex gets to stay at home while we have to revise! And he's not sick anymore!"

"Tom, if I had known about the upcoming exams," he cast a withering glare in Alex's direction, who sheepishly hid behind Will, "Then he wouldn't have been sitting around all day doing next to nothing."

The spy turned to Alex and his brothers, "Alex, I checked into those two people you mentioned; they're called the Hatchet Twins, but there is no sign of them at school. They just packed up and today, but MI6 is putting a trace on them, so we'll find them." The teen nodded, and Ben directed his attention to Will and Terry, "How was he?"

"As good as gold," Terry began, "Though never would have suspected you to foster a spy, no less."

He winced, so they had figured it out, or Alex had told them. Either way, the truth was out, so it meant no hiding from them now.

Ben was happy that Alex had found people whom he could trust. It meant that he wasn't as burdened with the truth as he might have been had he not opened up. It was a surreal experience, talking about espionage over dinner with the group of teens and his brothers (who had invited themselves to stay, once Alex had persuaded Ben to allow them (He had given on purpose though)), but it wasn't an unwelcome one. The Daniels household was, for once in its long life, filled with laughter.

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Ben and Alex getting ready for bed, after having stayed up late watching TV together; Ben had laughed when Alex had moaned about not telling him where the TV was, and had spluttered when the older spy told him there were many more secrets and gadgets in the house that he just didn't know about yet.

Alex was brushing his teeth, whilst ben hung around the bathroom door,

"You never told me you were falling behind in physics." Ben stated, leaning against the door frame,

"You never asked…" Alex mumbled around his toothbrush. Truth be told, Alex had kept the information back purposefully. He had thought Ben would mock him for being an amazing spy yet not fully understanding how speed worked or what radiation in regards to an atom was.

"Alex," Ben said sternly, "As your guardian, I'm supposed to tell me about these things. Why didn't you?"

Alex spat the foamy toothpaste out of his mouth and rinsed, washing the toothbrush along with it. He turned to face Ben,

"Because I didn't okay…" he tried saying, attempting to dismiss the persistent spy, but Ben's gaze was deterring, "Alright, I didn't want you to patronise me."

Ben was slightly disappointed at Alex. He still hadn't realised that Ben was trying to help, not make things difficult for the boy,

"I could tutor you…" He proposed idly. Alex's eyes went wide,

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you, kiddo." Alex hugged Ben as he chuckled, the boy's display of awkward affection both cute and comforting. He would never say that to Alex's face though, he would like to stay alive, thank you very much.

"Oh, and by the way," Alex asked, as the two headed to Alex's room where the teen slipped into bed, Ben coming in next to him and sitting on the edge, "My friend's are coming over to help me catch up."

"That's great" Ben beamed sincerely, but the grin faltered a bit, "Wait, is that insane one coming; Tom?" Alex nodded, suppressing a laugh but he couldn't control it when Ben groaned loudly.

"Oh well," he said, ruffling the boy's hair, "Night kiddo."

"Night Ben."

With Ben gone, Alex snuggled under the covers further, Fox pressing against his side. He drifted off, his thoughts passing over what tomorrow might have in store for him.

**Oh my God! That took forever to write. **

**So, we now have an Uncle Will, an Uncle Terry, and a new worry to the gang – Mr Edgar Riddle.**

**Urgh… tell me I did NOT just write gang…**

**So, your thoughts and opinions are, as always, welcome. Just think, if you review and find something interesting like PumpkinPumpkin did you too might get a chapter dedicated to you.**

**Also, since my imagination is lacking a little, I want people to submit names for the family restaurant, as I can't seem to think of a cool name. You decide, and post it to me in a review. The best name in my opinion will have the chapter dedicated to them, and their competition entry name used. Not really all that exciting I'm sure, but nevertheless…**

**EDIT: The competiton is for the next chapter, and I will need your submissions as quickly as possible. I've decided, since readers are just submitting one thing without much thought, that people can have a tleast a few tries. Try to keep the name general; it needs to be commercial. After all, it is a business...**

**Thanks – K9**


	11. Games

**Firstly, let me apologise to PumpkinPumpkin/Pink-Moon-Goddess: I am **_**so **_**sorry! I realise di didn't know your gender, and I tried to keep it neutral (and obviously failed… must've missed a key or something ^_^; ). And might I just say as well YOU SCARE ME! I DON'T EVEN REALISE I'M DOING THESE THINGS!**

**A thank-you to ReillyScarecrowRocks: Thanks for the advice; I noticed I was slipping up there. Sorry! It's just that I feel sorry for Alex not being able to relax a little around Ben. Just think of this error as a weak moment on Alex's behalf… ^^; Nevertheless, things shall improve. And honestly, I never notice the time, nor do I care. As long as you're happy with the story that's fine. **

**CONGRATULATIONS are in order for Sapphire2309, whose idea of a seasonal restaurant was brilliant. So much so, they are the winner. Their name: Daniel's Seasonal will be used, and this chapter dedicated to them for a flash of pure genius. **

Alex, for a change, was downstairs first instead of Ben this morning, which was odd, since Ben had always, _always_ been up before him. But, peeking through the crack in the door, Ben was sound asleep in bed, unaware of the time. It was past twelve o'clock. They'd both slept in!

'Must be a weekend thing,' Alex thought as he scouted the kitchen for something to eat. With nothing in, he settled on some dry toast; Ben would have to shopping at some point.

Alex nibbled at his breakfast musing over his plans. K-Unit was coming back today, meaning that Alex had to get them in on the secret too. But how to get them alone without Ben nearby was a puzzle to Alex. The only time he saw them was when Ben was around, so splitting hem up would be a challenge.

Alex picked up the phone, glancing upstairs to see if Ben was stumbling around, awake yet. But the faint sounds of snores told Alex otherwise, ad he dialled a number he'd remembered from yesterday. He waited for it to ring, only to be answered by a very formal voice,

"Good afternoon, you have reached 'Daniel's Seasonal', William Daniels speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Will? It's me, Alex."

"Oh, hello Alex. I wasn't expecting you to call so soon…" Will explained over the phone, genuinely surprised,

"Yeah, neither was I, but I just wanted to check to see if you had everything in place."

"Blimey Alex, you don't ask for much do you?" the man chuckled his sarcasm easily apparent, "But, as luck would have it, yes everything is pretty much in order. We've been preparing for something like this for weeks; we just kept expecting Benny to ring up. You sure he won't mind?"

"Him, the paranoid spy with an evil corporation hunting down his ward, not going to mind? He's going to have a bloody heart attack!" Had anyone else been listening, the conversation may have seemed malicious and possibly murderous, but it was quite he opposite. Before Alex could get any further, he heard the heavy footfalls of said spy coming downstairs. Hastily, he made a quick goodbye, and slammed the phone down just as Ben came into view.

The man gave Alex a suspicious quizzical stare as he passed him in the hall, but said nothing. Instead, he traipsed his way into the kitchen, and lazily grasped the kettle and haphazardly filled it with water. He put it on to boil, and opened up a cupboard just above him, only to slam it closed again and bang his head repeatedly against it polished surface. Alex just stood there, staring at the man he had once thought was sane,

"What's up with you?" Alex asked, "You look like you've got a hangover or something. You haven't got a hangover have you? Don't tell me you've got some secret stash of alcohol somewhere that I don't know about."

"There's no coffee…" Ben mumbled, head resting against the cupboard door, complaining at him for abusing his cranium.

"Coffee?" the teen asked, thoroughly bemused.

"Yes, coffee; and we've run out of it." Alex stood there for a minute face blank before he suddenly burst into a howl of laughter. Ben just grimaced as he tried to come to terms with running out of the precious brown liquid. When Alex finally calmed down, which was a considerable while later, the man gestured for Alex to elaborate on his random what he found so hilarious,

"You sounded… just like Wolf," he said breathlessly, still recovering from the absurdity of Ben antics.

"I'll have to get some later. When are your friends getting here, by the way?"

"In a couple of minutes actually, and you look like you've just been dragged through a bush," Alex noted,

"And you're still in your pyjamas. Shouldn't you go and get dressed, considering it's… TWELVE THRITY!" Ben made a mad dash upstairs, and Alex heard Ben's foot pound backwards and forwards across the floor above him. At a much slower pace, he headed out into the hall, just as Ben came rushing down the stairs,

"I was supposed to meet up with K-Unit fifteen minutes ago!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, simply voicing his frustration, "I'll be out a while and I'll pick up some stuff, and K-Unit's coming back here, they want to check up on you-"

"Really?" Alex asked hesitantly, "That's… worryingly nice of them."

"You're part of the unit, they care. What's to worry?" Ben replied, concerned at Alex's sudden tense attitude towards the unit.

Inside, Alex was over the moon. The situation couldn't be more perfect. He would have ample time to get K-Unit alone when they came over later, and if his friends decided to stick around a bit longer he might even be able to organise them more efficiently. He just had to keep Ben thinking that he was uneasy around them and he might back off a little…

"I'll see you later. No messing around, and when I come back everything had better be exactly as I left it." Ben warned, pointing an accusing finger at Alex.

"Me?" Alex huffed indignantly, "Ben, I'm the most mature person you know. What makes you think that I would wreck your house?"

"You tell me spy," he said, pulling on his jacket, "Everywhere you go, be it to school or on a simple reconnaissance mission; you always attract trouble Alex Rider."

He briskly left when Alex began to go into a tirade at the discrimination he was put against for simply trying 'to save the world', but he fell on deaf ears. Ben was long gone and Alex watched from the window as he practically launched himself into his car and drove off.

Alex smiled, shaking his head as he headed upstairs to get ready for when his friends arrived.

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The doorbell rang, signifying to Alex that the first of his guests had arrived. He got up from the living room where he had several books laid out, open to different pages, each one of a different topic, and headed for the door.

A blast of cold air wafted in as Tom and Melissa stepped inside, thanking Alex and shrugging off their coats. The three headed into the living room, where Tom promptly asked,

"Where's Fox?" Alex laughed inwardly, knowing that Tom was referring to the fully grown man, not the stuffed toy upstairs. He had told Tom about his time at Brecon Beacons, and the boy had grown accustomed to calling the man 'Fox' and not Ben. The older spy had been alright with it, and accepted the fact that once something was set in Tom's brain is was _incredibly_ hard to erase it.

"Gone out; we have the house to ourselves. Do you guys know when is Ella coming?" Tom smiled and whooped with joy, whilst Melissa just sighed, and reached into her pocket. For a moment, Alex had no clue as to what was going on, that was until he saw Mel take out a ten pound note and hand it to Tom; who kissed it like he'd seen nothing like it in all his life.

"You had a bet? What on?" Alex asked, a little angry to be at the expense of a little joke.

"Tom betted that the first person you'd ask about would be Ella, but I said that you had more self control than that and wouldn't. Obviously I overestimated you." She said, peering over he glasses accusingly. She leant over to whisper in Alex's ear while Tom pranced around with the money held high above his head like some kind of trophy, "I intentionally lost, just so you know. Tom's been running into trouble, and his mom found some of his cash. He doesn't want charity, so I have to be subtle."

Alex cringed, remembering Tom's own predicament. Whilst Alex was under the threat of criminal organisations, Tom was under the threat of his own parents. He felt sorry for the boy, who was stuck between his own rock and a hard place, unable to escape. Alex could, at least, pull a few strings to get away from it all, but Tom had no choice. He was stuck in hole of depression, and he bravely faced it with his insanity and strange behaviours. It was amazing to Alex that a teenager so mature was actually hiding underneath all the bravado that Tom managed to maintain.

Alex sucked in a breath, trying to blot out the thoughts of Tom and his unfair life. If anything, Tom deserved the better home, and not Alex. Tom was innocent, yet he was being pulled down because of his parents' cruel ways.

The doorbell rang again, and Alex went to answer it, leaving Tom still dancing, and Mel begging him to stop or he'll make it rain.

Alex opened the door to find Ella and Garfield, happily chatting and laughing with one another. It took them a couple of seconds to realise that Alex had actually opened the door and was actually standing there with a stormy expression upon his face,

"Rider-boy!" Garfield exclaimed as he flushed red, "Didn't see you there." He edged his way past Alex, who only glowered at him as he held the door with a tight grip. He burnt a hole in Garfield's back before directing his anger to Ella,

"What the **hell** was that all about?" he hissed testily. Ella just shrugged,

"Can't I flirt with any other single men?" she asked innocently. Alex was having none of it,

"I thought we were together, you know. Or was all that going out on a date business just you flirting to get with any guy you want?"

"Oh please," she retorted, "You still have to ask me out yet; date, time and place, and until then I'm a free woman."

She barged her way past Alex, now equally as angry. Alex just slammed the door shut, fuming at how she could so easily flaunt herself with nay guy that just so happened to be crossing the street.

Alex followed her into the living room, where she took one look at Tom dancing, shook her head absent-mindedly and took a seat next to Mel so that there was no room for anyone else to sit next to her. Alex was all too happy to comply, and slumped down on the opposite sofa, pulling down Tom's sleeve so that he dropped down as well.

Mel was the first to speak up, breaking the tense silence that everyone could feel,

"So, how well does everyone know their chemistry?"

"I think Alex needs a tune up on that topic," Ella said snidely, admiring her nails that had suddenly become very fascinating to her. Alex snorted,

"What about you? You seem to keep getting all your _chemicals_ mixed up."

"That's only because someone can't read the labels!" she shouted back,

"Well maybe they were labelled wrong!" Alex yelled, just as irritated. The two huffed in unison, but neither backed down. Another moment of silence hung in the air before Tom timidly added,

"Are we having some kind of scientific metaphor day, or are you two throwing a lover's tiff?" Garfield started laughing, but it quickly died down when both Alex and Ella sent a glare his way. He shrivelled back into his seat, fiddling with the book he held, mumbling an apology.

"We are **not** having a lover's tiff, Tom, because there are no lover's." Alex replied, not averting his gaze from Ella's, answering Tom's seemingly rhetorical question. Ella laughed,

"Sure, if we actually had been lovers," her glare intensified, "If you must know _Alex_, I was asking for help of Garfield." Alex raised an eyebrow,

"Help?"

"Yes, help, since my house was being watched by some creep last night as I went home."

Alex reeled back. Someone had been watching her house? Then…

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice suddenly disheartened. She sighed, slumping back,

"Because you would have fussed over me, and apologised profusely for it being your fault." Garfield spoke up, unafraid now that Alex and Ella had calmed down a little,

"I've got people looking into it Alex and she asked if I could escort her to yours so that I could scope out the place. She didn't want you to worry, and swore me to secrecy unless she told you." He cast a quick glance in her direction, "And as for relationship concerns, she's all yours; far too imperious for my taste."

Ella gasped, mock-offended. The group of teenagers laughed, up until Tom asked genuinely confused,

"What does imperious mean?"

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After Ella's little revelation, the group seemed to ease up a bit more. Mel had dutifully taken it upon herself to try and explain most of the material to Alex, and what was expected from him in the exams. She was quite the teacher, and the young spy could've sworn that she had had practise at this before. Glancing over at Tom, he wouldn't have been surprised.

Ella handed Alex her notes, having tried her best to help the teen. They were a little sketchy in some places, but Alex had thanked her anyway, wanting to make it up to her for treating her so harshly before. She had done this cute flick of her hair which made Alex melt on the spot, but he had maintained his composure, as always. It was only Garfield, the only other secret agent in the room who had noticed the subtly reflex, but he had said nothing, not wanting to but him on the spot. He had other matters to attend to.

Garfield had brought his laptop so as to continue his investigation whilst the group revised. He had already done enough revision as it was whilst juggling his work at MI5 and his education. It was even more hectic now that they had some new leads to go on with Ella's unfriendly visitor. It was an unwelcome surprise to hear the girl's panicked voice over the phone at two in the morning informing him that she might be in trouble. He had responsibly sent an agent round check, but she had called just before the woman had arrived, telling him that the man was gone. It was a reckless move on his behalf, but he had felt strangely compelled to help Ella. Perhaps it was his emotions interfering with his judgement. Whatever it was, he vowed to himself that he wouldn't let that happen again, as emotional attachments often lead to very complex problems. The technician's head was aching just thinking about all the different probabilities that could happen should he let his emotions rule over him. When people let their lives mix with their work, they could react in a multitude of ways. It just wasn't very efficient.

Tom, on the other hand, had at first tried to knuckle down and revise alongside Alex, wanting to do well in regards to grades for once, but his attention had easily been distracted, and he was soon complaining that he was bored.

"Well, read a book then," Garfield suggested, not looking up from typing.

"Books are boring," Tom whined, reverting back to his favourite position of sitting upside down.

"How about doodling?" Ella inquired, holding up a blank notepad she had pinched from her father's study. She wasn't worried about the repercussions, that man had boxes full of them.

"Drawing is boring," the idle teenager said, as though it were an obvious fact.

"Running around in circles?" Alex asked, smirking at the look of horror on Mel's face,

"Running's boring," he said, collapsing of the sofa and back into a normal sitting position. Garfield stopped typing,

"Are most things boring to you?" he asked, vexed by Tom's answers. The spiky-haired teen nodded, slouching back into the leather, smiling like a maniac. The technician just laughed as he continued typing. Alex and Mel passed a knowing look between them. Mel had told Alex that since he had been off school, Garfield and Tom had gotten close, each one sharing in their horrible parental stories, and where their childhoods went wrong. It seemed the two had a lot in common, and it was a relief for both Alex and Mel that Tom finally had someone to talk to who fully understood yet wasn't going to be condescending.

Tom snapped his fingers, an idea striking him,

"I know!" he bellowed unnecessarily loudly, "Let's play Truth or Dare!" Ella just groaned,

"That game is for tacky teenage drama shows and children's' parties."

"And what are we doing right here? We have drama, we have teenagers, and we're having a party… of sorts. We just need a bottle," He argued back not wanting his insanity to be extinguished so easily.

"Why do we need a bottle?" Garfield asked, finally closing the laptop and giving everyone his full attention,

"_Because_," Tom began, giving Garfield an incredulous look, "We need to spin it!" Another exasperated groan from Ella, more louder than the last,

"That's _Spin the bottle_, Tom, not _Truth or Dare_."

"Who cares," he said, shrugging, "Come on, it'll be fun and it'll only be for a couple of minutes. _PLEASE!_"

The hyper teenager didn't need a reply, and stood up to prowl in the kitchen for a poor unsuspecting bottle to be used in his cruel hybrid of a party game. He disappeared inside a cupboard, only to return with a half-full vinegar bottle.

"You need this, Al?" he asked, gesturing with the bottle. Alex shook his head, about to tell him not to…

Tom screwed off the cap and began drinking the sour, acrid liquid. All four of the other teenagers cringed and nearly vomited there and then as he downed the bottle in one. He came back into the front room, where everyone was sitting round the coffee table, having given in to Tom's persistency and gone along with his suggestion.

"You're **not** human," Alex stated, not an opinion but a general fact held by everyone there, but Tom just grinned as he set the bottle down and wedged himself between Alex and Garfield. They were forced to move up, and the group was ready; Tom reached to spin the bottle first, but Alex's hand slapped his away,

"Oh no," he said, wagging a finger in his direction, "If you go first who knows what we might do. I'll go first and we'll go clockwise." Tom let out a whine,

"But that means I'll go last!"

"Exactly," and with that, Alex spun the bottle, which rotated for a few moments before landing on Garfield, who promptly said,

"Truth."

"Have you ever come across an evil megalomaniac with an outlandish and insane plot to take over somewhere or something, or just to simply destroy?"

"Apart from Tom?" he began, chortling at his own joke, "Let me think… I once had to stop a guy who was going to use pigeons to destroy Britain." Mel gave him a sceptical look, "What? It's true; the guy tired planting bombs on the all the pigeons and then was about to send them off. I rewired his detonator so that when he pressed the wrong button… well, it wasn't pretty, but there were no more bomber pigeons."

She shook her head in disbelief, before reaching for the bottle herself and flicking it so it began to spin. The noise of the glass rocking against glass filled the room until it stopped on Tom. The boy smiled evilly,

"Dare." Mel sighed, giving it a moment's thought before saying,

"I dare you to… eat a table spoon of cinnamon." All the other teenagers gasped, all of them apart from Tom, whose grin, if anything, just got wider; before Alex could stop him, and had dashed into the kitchen, located a table spoon and a spice jar of cinnamon. They watched on in horror as the maniac poured himself a more-than-full spoon and promptly shoved it into his mouth.

And then he swallowed.

It was _the _most horrific thing they had seen in all their lives. Tom Harris just ate a table spoon of cinnamon without a second thought, and actually _swallowed_. Alex felt an eerie shiver run down his spine, telling him never to underestimate Tom and his competency again.

Ella, mirroring Alex's shiver, reached for the bottle and spun it with vigour. It spun quite a while before stopping on Alex. He thought for a moment, weighing up his options considering it _was_ Ella here,

"Truth" he said after a couple of seconds.

"What was the name of your previous flame?" Alex's face suddenly became very sullen,

"Her name was Sabina." He said his voice hard. The tone was frightening, and Garfield tired to pull the group out of the depressing mood that had swept over them,

"Moving on!" he spun the bottle, trying his best to put the bad turn out of their minds. The bottle landed on Tom. _Again._

"Dare!" he said, squealing with joy. Garfield just sighed, and began thinking,

"Go to the neighbour's house, knock on the door, and wait for them to answer, then sing 'Ba Ba Black sheep' at the top of your voice to them" he said, his own grin spreading across his face. Without any encouragement, Tom got up and ran out of the house to the next door neighbour's.

'Please don't let Ben kill me because of this.' Alex said, pleading for help with an unknown deity, knowing full well he would get any.

They listened intently to the sound of a door being opened, and then Tom shrieking his own version of 'Ba Ba Black sheep'. One he had finished, they heard a string of curses follow after him as he sprinted off, back to Alex's. They ran back inside, dying in fits of laughter.

"Oh, goody, my turn!" Tom exclaimed once they had all calmed down. He enthusiastically spun the bottle, following it round with his eyes. It slowly made its way round to Ella, who sighed,

"Go on then. I'll probably regret this, but… Dare." The three teens gasped again, all aside from Tome who pretended to give his idea some great thought. He held a finger to his lips is mock-concentration,

"I want you to… kiss Alex!" Alex spluttered,

"Kiss me?"

"Yes, kiss. Full blown, completely French. No holding back." An evil grin spread across Ella's face, and Alex tried backing away as she stood up and stalked her way over,

"Oh, certainly Tom; I wouldn't mind doing that at all!" It was like a dream come true for her, Alex imagined, but he yelped in discomfort and she pulled him up by the ear. He was about to protest before she plant her lips on his, but the complaint quickly died in his mouth as he gave in to the pleasure.

The reason he was about to protest? That was because he had heard what they hadn't; a car pulling up, the typical crunching of gravel as K-Unit and ben arrived back. In the waves of happiness and pleasure Alex was feeling, he just about registered the door opening, and several men coming through the door,

"Alex, what did you do to get the neighbour so riled…" his voice trailed off as he saw the teens making out. K-Unit came to see what the problem was, and each one of them gasped in surprise,

"Alex?" Ben said,

"Eleanor?" Snake yelled,

"PUP?" the rest of K-Unit chorused.

**And... Let's leave it there shall we? That'll keep you wondering what will happen, and leaves me to take a break.**

**So, I haven't got much to say here except thanks for all those of you who are reviewing, and that your comments are being taken seriously. **

**For now, let's just look forward to chapter 12…**

**(Just a note Sapphire2309: Mr Riddle may just become someone important, you never know.)**

**Thanks – K9**


	12. Caught

**Sorry readers that this took longer than I anticipated; I haven't been feeling all that great. Hits are low, health is poor and I only got three weeks until school starts. The joy!**

**But, I won't let that hinder a reasonably okay story.**

**Chapter 12: And this is where we left off:**

_"Alex?" Ben said,_

_"Eleanor?" Snake yelled,_

_"PUP?" the rest of K-Unit chorused._

The silence that reigned could've been cut with a knife. No on said a word, the situation still sinking in. Ella and Alex were blushing furiously as bemused Ben and enraged Snake stared numbly at them. K-Unit behind them, however were staring at Garfield.

"Awkward…" Tom said, but Mel kicked him in the shin to stop himself from being slaughtered by any one of the shocked soldiers.

"Well," Garfield said, "I don't know what's funnier; the looks of your faces or the looks on K-Unit's. Hi, by the way." Realisation dawned on Alex,

"Wait, Pup?" he exclaimed, whirling around on the spot to face the technician, Snake long forgotten, "You're Pup?"

"The one and only," he said smirking, not the least bit concerned.

"Eleanor Patricia McDonald, what in God's name were you doing?" Snake bellowed, his fury directed at her for the moment, deciding that his priorities went: Ella, Alex then Pup. She was about to respond meekly, but Snake cut her off before she could utter a word, "I know what you were doing! And what have I said about love and boyfriends?"

"That I'm not allowed to start dating until I'm sixteen... But Dad, that's only a couple of months away!"

"I DON'T CARE! You disobeyed me!" the medic continued, with a little more force than necessary, "And not only that, but with Alex, of all people!"

"What's it to you who I fall in love with?" she shouted back just as angrily, rage flaring in her cheeks replacing the earlier embarrassment, "Why do I have to have rules telling me what I can and can't do?" The stormy look on Snake's face just got even more vehement. He was about to bring the entire building down before Ben intervened, forcefully dragging him away in to the other room.

"Calm yourself down, Sullivan;" Ben said calmly, "You're over reacting."

"Over reacting!" the medic hissed viciously, "It's thanks to Alex that she's being corrupted!"

"Alex is mature, and I trust him. He wouldn't dream of hurting anyone close to him," Ben explained, keeping his cool around the intimidating soldier, "I for one, know that he was involved in a previous relationship, but even when that ended he remained close to her." Snake bared his teeth threateningly, showing even more unusual aggressive behaviour than Ben had ever seen from the medic; and right now he was terrifying,

"You're using past tense," he ground out, "I don't want to see her hurt."

"Neither do I, believe it or not!" Ben spat back, finally losing his own temper, "I don't want to see Alex get hurt either, but I trust both of them to make the right decisions. They aren't children, Sullivan. They growing up, Alex into a young man, and Ella into a beautiful young woman. You have to let them do this on their own."

Snake held his glare, before it crumpled. His body slumped as he sighed,

"You're right. You're absolutely right."

"As always," Ben scoffed; thankful he had managed to pacify Snake's fury, "I know this must be hard for you, and in some ways it is for me. Ella's your eldest daughter, and your first teenager. You just gotta improvise otherwise you're gonna lose your head too often."

"And here was I thinking that I was the team medic," the soldier mumbled, "I just need to let go, I guess. Give her some proper freedom."

"I'm the spy, so I do the psychology around here, thank you very much," Ben said, affirming his role, "And I don't think Alex is one of those kids who's gonna go round drinking and taking advantages, if you know what I mean?"

"Don't get me started," Snake warned playfully, thumping Ben on the chest and satisfied he heard a grunt come from the spy. Regaining his composure, he straightened himself out,

"I owe you one, Fox."

"Damn straight you do."

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_Meanwhile_

"But, what are you doing here?" Lion asked. Garfield – or Pup, Alex wasn't sure now – shrugged,

"Revising; what else does it look like?" he said rather tersely, irritably jabbing at the pile of books neatly stacked off to one side.

"_Why_ are you here, though?" Eagle persisted, "Here at Fox and Cub's I mean."

"_Revising_." he repeated, "_With him. Because he's my friend._" He ground it out, making sure to look as annoyed as possible. That thought, though, made him stop for a minute. People like him don't make friends; only enemies and allies. He mentally corrected himself; Alex is my ally.

"Cut the bullshit Pup, how come you're here, with an MI6 spy, and you just so happened to get sent to an SAS military camp. Explain **now**," Wolf said, unfazed by Garfield's attitude. The teen just huffed,

"Alex here works for MI6, which you already know," he said, gesturing to Alex, "I'm his MI5 equivalent; more or less. Well… probably less." He grinned sheepishly at Alex, reminding him of their conversation from school.

"But you said you were just a rich kid sent to learn how 'real men' fight?" Wolf continued, obviously not happy with Garfield's explanation.

"I _was_ just some rich kid sent there to learn how to fight. I was rich from my…" he paused, thinking how to phrase himself, "_Past_ and I needed to know how to defend myself. It was Silver's idea that I take a course of in basic training at the camp. Still don't know how to fight, but I'm not complaining."

K-Unit just there gormlessly; they hadn't expected running into their elusive sixth member,

"With Alex, at least we ran into him a couple of times. You, you just disappeared. How are we supposed to believe you?" Wolf was getting cocky, he knew, but the story that MI5 would stoop to the level of Blunt was inconceivable. Alex was going to be Garfield's alibi, but the technician stopped him,

"Didn't Snake tell you about our mission together?" the soldiers, and teenagers, had vacant expressions, so Garfield just sighed and continued explaining, "We were sent to shut down a science facility… a place called Greenfields I think. Anyway, Snake was the medical advisor, and I was the strategist for the mission. It was one of those times where I had to actually get involved, more so than just the usual 'voice-in-the-ear' stuff. I'm surprised Snake hasn't told you about it yet."

Just as the conversation had turned to Snake, the medic walked back through into the living room with Ben following close behind,

"What hasn't Snake told you about?" the Scot said in the third person, seemingly more calm than he had been before.

"That you worked with Pup," Lion informed the man, only to be met with a quizzical stare, "Something about being a medical advisor and closing down Greenfields?" Snake turned to Garfield,

"That was you?" The blue-haired teen nodded, "Huh. Never figured." He responded, nonchalantly. It seemed he had more on his mind than just running into old comrades, "Must've forgotten. Ella, we're going home. We've got a lot to talk about."

Ella cringed, now with the poetic justice of her words coming back to haunt her, she now fully regretted kissing Alex. She had enjoyed it, but now the consequences will be dire.

"Just talk," Snake said, gently as he led her out of the house, "You're not in _too_ much trouble. We just need to set things straight." Alex, rushed out into the hall with them,

"Could I just have a word with you her, before you go? In private?" Snake gave him a stern look of warning, but allowed them, leaving to go and start his car,

"Alex, look, I'm sor-"

"No, I'm sorry. But now that your Dad knows about us, then maybe…" his voice trailed off, scratching the back of his head with his hand,

"EW! Alex, how can you think like that?" Ella exclaimed, slapping him. He rubbed his cheek, realising his mistake,

"No! I mean, do you want to go on that date. Like, maybe tomorrow?" he asked his voice slightly meek. The girl looked at him sceptically,

"Finally, he asks," she moaned, "Alright, but I have terms."

"Name them."

"One, _you_ pick _me_ up. Two, you treat me like I am the most precious thing in the world."

"You mean I don't already?" Alex inquired cheekily, but Ella chose to ignore him,

"And three, you scrub up. No looking like a train wreck, or getting yourself poisoned or God knows what else. Just turn up in one piece." Alex smiled, and before she left, pulled her into another kiss whilst everyone else was looking away. When they broke off, she blushed red again, flicking her hair behind her ear and excusing herself.

"Oh, and four, have some originality. I don't want to be dragged to the cinema or lead to some random restaurant.

"I'll see you tomorrow at nine, then?" Alex called out as she ran to her car. She nodded, before climbing in. The car pulled out, and away, leaving Alex with a gigantic grin on his face. He closed the door, and came back in to see Garfield and K-Unit – well, mostly Wolf – arguing, and Ben idly chatting to the two other helpless teenagers, who were all watching the vivid show with great amusement.

"I am **NOT** a 'pencil-pusher'. I am a special operations strategic advisor and a highly trained illegitimate retrieval agent."

"That basically means you give useless advice and you're a thief!" Eagle argued back. They must still be getting over the whole MI5 thing still. Without any solid evidence, he couldn't blame them, but Alex knew better.

"Yes, fine, maybe in your eyes, I'm a thief, but thieves are people who go and steal old lady's handbags, or who go and hold up a store for a couple of quid. I, on the other hand, have standards; like only to steal things actually _worth _stealing, or how I always return something I only stole for the experience. And my advice is not _useless_!"

"You know what you are, you're scum; a pathetic, petty criminal who has no thoughts for others." Wolf retorted, turning a silly argument in a serious debate. He winced as he saw Garfield take the blow, only slightly caught off guard by Wolf's fury,

"And you're obviously better? Treating a kid so brutally when they obviously don't want to be anywhere near a military camp, let alone in his forsaken life!" He recovered quickly, referring to Wolf's harsh behaviour back at Brecon Beacons. Alex remembered from the few nights ago that they had treated him badly too, but he didn't know how bad,

"You said that you were a snobbish rich kid looking for a fight!" Eagle and Lion had dropped out of the argument, seeing how worked up and angry both he and Garfield were getting.

"That was MY STORY!" the teen shouted back, "I had to lie! That was my job!"

"Oh, so lying's a profession now, for you is it?" Wolf snorted, "Lying for whom exactly; the government? What the hell would they want with you? You're just a common thug!"

"I bet I've had more experience than you, you incompetent grunt!" Those watching glanced at each other. Should they intervene? They were being pretty animated, and it looked like either of them could snap at any moment. More nervous glances were passed around, but no one dared move, fearing to get involved. It was clear though who was breaking first. Wolf had a smug look plastered over his face, while Garfield's mask was cracking. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't hold back a strangled breath.

"Ha! A kid like you! I've had years of training under my belt. I'm the SAS, and what are you? You the most pathetic excuse of a thieving, snivelling little child I have ever seen." Garfield bit back a sob, only Alex and Ben, being the spies that they were, noticed. Wolf continued, regardless of whether he realised or not, "What about you kid, how long have you been training for? Three weeks? You had any other military courses other than ours?"

"No," the teen responded quietly, "but I've been barely surviving for a lifetime."

"Sure you have, and I'm the King of England," Wolf chortled, looking to the group, who were casting him silent warnings to stop. He failed to notice them, and continued still, "You have the bloody nerve to start telling me how to do my job, how I should go about carrying out my missions. Its people like you that get me so riled up, barking down orders from a million miles thinking you know better. Is that it? You think you're better than me?"

"NO!" Garfield screamed, giving up on holding himself back, "I BLOODY LOOKED UP TO YOU!"

The teenager ran out the door, Ben heading to intercept him, but the boy was too quick, and had flung the door open and sprinted off.

"GARFIELD!" he called out, stumbling out onto the drive, worried for the boy. Since he'd met the technician, he hadn't so much a shown an ounce of unwarranted emotion, always controlling himself with dignity and obedience. This was new, and it was disconcerting. As Ben made to storm back in, he was met with Tom and Mel,

"We'd better leave. We don't want to get in the way." Mel explained, excusing themselves. Ben sighed,

"I'm so sorry you guys had to see that," he apologised, not for his actions but for both Wolf's and Agent Viking's, "If you could, check up on him for me if you're able. I don't really have a direct way of contacting him." The two teens nodded, before heading off home. Alex stood at the door to see them off, before he and Ben went back inside.

Wolf was sitting on the opposite sofa to where Eagle and Lion were sitting, looking a little shocked,

"Happy now?" Alex asked his tone bitter and repugnant, "You have just successfully managed to make the highest ranking MI5 agent have an emotional breakdown." Wolf was about to reply, but Alex held up his hand, "I don't care what you have to say. I thought you would've known better the second time around; that you might've had a little more self-control. But obviously not, you're nothing but a brute, a bully to all those who threaten your masculinity. What you said to me that night when you came round was meaningless wasn't it?"

"No, I-" Wolf tried, but Ben cut in,

"Alex is right, Tristan, you shouldn't say things you don't mean."

"I _did_ mean that though, he was just-" It was Lion's turn to butt in,

"We didn't have to like the kid; we just had to get along with him. You didn't need to go and insult him in an enraged rant. That was cruel." Wolf tried again, but Eagle interrupted over him,

"Lion's right, what the hell was all that about?" Wolf huffed,

"If you'd let me get a word in edgeways, I might've said sorry by now," he scowled, "Look, I'm sick of being put with children. It's not right. Our world is dangerous, and kids shouldn't be getting involved and running the show. First it was with you, and I thought that'd be the last of it, but then Pup turns up, and suddenly it's like they never learn. I tried to get the pair of you binned so you wouldn't have to face the horrors we see." He slumped back on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose, the bags under his eyes looking very much heavier.

"Your intentions may have been good then, but look what it's done now," Alex voiced, not feeling the need to drag Wolf through the dirt any longer. Ben glanced at his watch, "It's getting late. Sod cooking, I'm ordering in, you guys can stay if you want but we split the bill."

Ben left, sighing dejectedly, knowing there wasn't much he could do now to restore peace. He heard Ben pick up the phone and begin to order something to eat. He quickly turned to the remnants of K-Unit that were left,

"Okay, Wolf apologise to Garfield on Monday, because you'll see him then," Wolf looked confused, as did Lion and Eagle, "Let me tell you the plan…"

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Alex was awoken by the generic sound of a text message arriving. He pulled himself groggily out of bed, squinting at the digital clock Ben had placed in his room. It was nearly seven, so he didn't see much point ignoring it when he needed to be ready in about an hour or so. He pulled his IPhone off the bedside cabinet, the most recent model that the Pleasure's had given to him a few weeks prior to their deaths, saying that he should at least Apple product, worshiping the company and its merchandise like pure gold.

He slid his finger along the bottom, unlocking the phone. One message from Blue; Garfield had finally replied. Alex still liked to call him, just like the technician like to call him Rider-boy. It was a work thing they had going on. Alex opened the message, eager to read the reply to his several other texts he'd sent. He'd never seen Blue act emotional before, and what he had said to Wolf had him concerned:

**I'm fine. He was right and I was wrong. I'm a criminal, just a worthless criminal who can't even fight for shit. I'll see you on Monday.**

And that was it. Alex wanted to text back, but he doubted he'd get a response. It was probably better to leave it, and wait until tomorrow to see him. He sighed; the whole situation with Garfield and Pup was a catastrophe. It surprised him further that Wolf had a fan of sorts. Alex swept those thoughts away, focusing on the here and now.

He decided that he should have a bath, whilst Ben was otherwise preoccupied with sleep. By the time he was finished, it was coming up to eight, and Alex felt much better and invigorated. He dried himself, drained the bath and headed to his room to get changed. He thought through what to wear, wanting to put in a lot of effort for Ella so that he kept his word. But there wasn't much choice; Ben hadn't mentioned anything about cleaning or laundry. Even the clothes Alex had managed to salvage from America were either damaged or too small,

'Perfect,' Alex thought, scowling to himself, 'Now I'll have to ask Ben for more money and clothes.' He groaned again, the scowl only deepening. It hadn't occurred to him that he would need money for today, and Ben still hadn't organised some kind of allowance for him, so Alex had yet more money to ask for. There went his supposed independence. If he wanted to take Ella somewhere nice, then he would have to wake the sleeping giant. Alex cringed and shivered; this was not going to be pretty.

He crept up the stairs silently, having finished his breakfast and cleared up after himself. By now, he had memorised where each and every creak and groan was along the floor, and he tiptoed along the landing to the open doorway that led to the spy's room.

Ben was, just like yesterday, fast asleep, snoring quite noisily. The answer as to why the hell did he suddenly turn into such an oath during the weekend escaped Alex. He examined the man, thinking through possibilities of waking him without too much of a mess. He sighed, and was about to prod Ben's shoulder, when he was suddenly and rather roughly pushed back in a flurry of bed sheets and pillows. Alex groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position, only to be faced with the barrel of a 9mm Browning. The sleek gun metal of the pistol glinted in the shady light, and Alex's instincts were screaming at him to run,

"Alex?" the Liverpudlian holding said gun asked, his hold faltering only slightly, "What are you doing on the floor?" The teen pushed himself up of the carpet, batting away the pistol,

"You," he said, brushing himself down, "threw me to the floor, and then proceeded to shove a gun in my face. I need money." It was blunt, but it wasn't like he had asked for much getting here.

"How much?" Ben asked slowly and critically.

"Enough for a date; me and Ella," Alex explained, "I was thinking about taking her to the London Eye." Ben winced,

"Not very romantic or classy is it? Especially with all those tourists," Ben said, walking out and down the stairs, mechanically heading towards his wallet. Alex hung around upstairs for a bit, the older spy assuming he was just getting ready to leave. He had heard Alex mention something about nine, and it had just gone half eight.

"I have a plan," The teen said cryptically as he jogged down the stairs, now complete with jacket and shoes. He had his wooden beads around his neck, something Ben hadn't seen since his visit when he had been in hospital. Ben gave Alex some money, folded up tightly so the teen couldn't make out how much was there. The boy grasped it, but as he tried to pull away Ben's grip tightened holding him there,

"Remember," He said firmly, "You're a good kid; don't screw this up. I've watched both of you grow up, and I'd hate to see the pair of you hurt." He let go, and Alex muttered his thanks, and slipped past Ben and out the door.

As he headed for the nearest tube station, Alex examined the money Ben had given him. He nearly choked on the amount; it was far too much. He would have to control himself and only spend on what he needed and what Ella wanted. There was no way he was going to accept that much. It was just a date, not a full blown wedding. Alex stopped himself, why the hell would he even think that? He mentally smirked at the thought of Ella in a wedding dress. Oh, how she would kill him if she ever found out.

By now, Alex had reached the busier streets, and he was soon caught in a mingling stream of commuters. The former spy couldn't push away the niggling feeling In the back of his head. He looked around, checking the strangers that were passing along on the street; a woman pushing a pram, with a baby happily gargling away inside, a business man and woman briskly walking along together, both on their phones and a man in a raincoat and a luridly lime green scarf and umbrella that matched in colour. It was the middle of summer, but Alex knew the weather was being pretty unpredictable at the moment, so he paid him no heed. Then who? Why did he have this feeling like he was being watched, like there was electricity and danger bolting down his spine? He reached around, straightening out his jacket to make sure Ben's 9mm Browning was concealed.

His instincts never lied.

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It hadn't been hard to get to Snake's house on time, and when he arrived Alex was unsure of whether he had come to the right place. He spent about five minutes just verifying himself, double checking the address. Had Ella texted him the wrong place? Maybe she'd got a digit wrong? Or a letter perhaps?

The house was vast, a rival to Ben's. From random snippets of conversations he'd had with the girl, and with Ben and K-Unit was that Snake was the only what that was married out of the four of them. Well five, if ben was still counted. Six, actually considering Alex himself, as they always mentioned how he was still listed as one o the unit. In fact, now with Pup – or Blue, or Garfield – it would be seven. Alex inwardly cringed, remembering Garfield's breakdown and Wolf's outburst.

Just as his thoughts passed over last night, Ella came bounding out the door, waving to Snake In the window as she hugged Alex,

"You're early!" she commented.

"So are you," Alex replied, "It _is_ quarter to nine." She stuck his tongue out at him, and together they walked off.

"So, what plans have you got?" She asked as she linked arms with Alex when he offered, being the ever gentlemen,

"Figured we go to the London Eye; I've… _called in a few favours_," Alex answered cryptically, his replies being enigmatic out of habit. Ella frowned a little,

"I'll give you originality, I haven't heard of dates to the London Eye, but not exactly… _romantic_, is it? And what kind of favours?" Alex chuckled,

"That's what Ben said. Favours with MI6; I've decided that if they're going to rule my life for now then I may at least take advantage of it. Got us a carriage all to ourselves, and I'll buy flowers on the way. Didn't know what you liked, so I thought I'd get an expert opinion." He laughed as she gasped in mock-hurt,

"Alex Rider, you cannot treat a lady in such a way!"

"Who said anything about you being a lady?" He retorted, flinching away still laughing as she slapped him half-heartedly,

"I'll show you who's a lady!"

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The trip had bee much quieter than expected, and the couple had revelled in that fact, taking the time to talk more openly. Alex had come clean with his previous relationship with Sabina and his love interest in Tamara Knight from one of his missions. Ella had crudely remarked that Alex had a thing for older foreigners, to which Alex had all too quickly denied, much to the enjoyment of his girlfriend.

She had told him about her childhood back in Scotland, before Snake had decided it would be better for the family if they moved to London, so that they would become more comfortable with his work. She also detailed how she had lost the accent to avoid bullying, and to grow acclimatised to London suburbia and life. From her experience, she told Alex, was that teenage boys tended to stay away from her because of fears over her spontaneity and her father and background. Alex had shrugged it off, saying that it shouldn't matter where someone comes from or how they act that makes someone beautiful, to which Ella had once again blushed profusely. The train reached its destination, and before the pair could say anymore they were bustled off by jostling crowds.

On the way to the Thames, Ella made Alex buy her a navy blue neckerchief instead of flowers. It ended up costing more than Alex would've liked, but if it was for Ella, then he will suffer in amiable silence. Alex noticed, though, that the girl seemed a little more on edge than usual. When he had asked about he received a brunt dismissal, on the grounds that couldn't she be a bit nervous on her first date. But Alex could see past that, but didn't bring up the subject again.

They were nearing the large wheel, when suddenly, Ella whispered to Alex,

"It _is_ him!"

"Him?" Alex inquired, not quite understanding what she was going on about.

"That man," she said, still whispering, her hand clenched tightly around his own, "Back a block or two, with the umbrella and the scarf. He was outside my house the other night."

Alex pulled her over to pretend to look at something, mouth forming silent words as he faked a conversation. He glanced in the reflection, and sure enough there was a man there with a scarf and an umbrella. But they were both a hideous shade of green. He had seen that man before,

"You're right. He was watching me too but I didn't notice," Alex tugged her along, quickening their pace towards the London Eye, "If we're fast enough, we might lose him in the crowds of tourists."

Together, the two teens paced and weaved through families taking photos, and barged their way through a large group of adults who were being toured around by a woman with orange skin and a blaring white teeth. Behind them, Alex noticed their pursuer had increased his speed also, but he was having trouble negotiating the mass of people milling about.

They got to the ticket vendor, and Alex organised the private capsule to be ready next for them, pulling out a ten pound note and discreetly passing it to the clerk, who promptly pocketed it and led them to their carriage.

The doors slid shut, and Alex felt a little boxed in, panic setting in slightly as the carriage rose. Ella sat heaving in long breaths as she recovered,

"You okay?" Alex asked, worried he may have overdone it. Ella just nodded, and stood back up, panting less,

"I'm fine;" she smiled, "That was certainly… _original_ for a first date, Mr Rider."

"I aim to please," the young spy replied, grinning cheekily.

The ride was enjoyed in with a better mood, the chase forgotten. Alex scanned the crowd below them, but he saw no sign of the man in lime green. If he'd gotten on, then when the ride came back down, it would give a chance for them to make an easy escape. But that was unlikely; any normal person would have figured that out also and done the wise thing, which is to wait. So the only other option was that the man had lost them, and gone to look elsewhere. Whichever possibility it was, Alex was happy that they were safe for the time being.

About fourteen minutes later though, it descended into hell.

Ella shouted to Alex, pointing at someone in the next carriage.

It was the man in lime green, lonely standing there looking directly at them.

"He can't get us, Ella. When we get off well get away, and he'll still have to wait for his turn. Don't worry."

But Alex was panicking. You wouldn't wear such garish colours if you were trying to follow and watch someone; you would look plain and be invisible to the normal world. But here the man was, dressed so abundantly and obnoxiously, clearly waiting for them and keeping an eye on them. One word flared in Alex's mind: Omega. It had to be. Who else would be so sure of themselves so as to send an operative to follow them in broad daylight, standing out like a neon sign in the dark?

Alex watched in mixed horror and realisation as the man reached up to his ear, his head mostly obscured by a large brimmed top hat. Alex could, however, see the man's lips moving, and just about made out the words. He took a few staggered steps back, comprehension dawning on him. Ella noticed, and shakily said,

"Alex, what's wrong? What did he say?"

"_Shoot to kill_." He murmured, glancing around the panoramic landscape, looking for threats and a means of escape.

In the distance, Alex saw the black spec, of what seemed to be a bird, stand out against the span of blue sky. The bird grew larger, and Alex's mind shifted thoughts from bird to helicopter. A metallic coppery taste filled Alex's mouth as his throat went dry. He could handle lucky escapes and cheating death, but Ella…

He lurched around their small cabin, looking for exits as it locked into place at its peak of the wheel. Alex knew from his childhood that the wheel took thirty minutes to do one full rotation, and give or take delays with people getting on and off; Alex would have at least fifteen minutes before they could get off by the normal conventional methods. So he must rely upon himself to get them out of the situation, by any means necessary.

The helicopter was drawing frighteningly close, and Alex looked down below to see people fleeing the area, fearing the hulking machine as its blades whipped up sprays of water and battered tourists with its winds. Alex saw that even the staff running the Eye had fled, and men and women in suits were rushing to the wheel. MI6 didn't react that fast, nor did MI5. They had to be Omega. There went their only assured exit.

"Alex…" Ella cried out, uneasily as the chopper loomed menacingly over them, the aircraft lining itself up with them. The door on its side was hurled open, and a man in combat gear clambered out to the edge, lugging with him a heavy Gatling gun. Alex had a split second to see the elongated and thuggish muzzle begin to rotate before he screamed at the top of his lungs,

"Get down!"

**So, I've been a bit iffy with this chapter. Exploring Garfield's background some more, seeing how Snake would react to Ella and Alex, whom I should probably name Ellax. Oh, and Tom and Mel should be Tomel. But they both sound weird… never mind. :/**

**Ben is pretty much the voice of reason here, and Alex is taking after him. We learn why Wolf was such a douche, and Alex's plotting of... **_**something.**_

**I will start, from this point onwards, try to respond to all my reviews. Any before this chapter, I'm sorry, but I sometimes just don't have the time. I'll try to keep updating each day, and hopefully I ****can**** get it finished in time before I go back, but it all depends. Mainly on the support you guys give me and my level of persistence. Your support, by the way, is great, and your reviews are informing and great to read. If I haven't thank you yet, then let me do so now. **

**Thanks – K9**

**The next few chapters will get progressively darker slightly. We're getting into the thick of the plot now.**


	13. Escape

**In response to last chapter's reviews:**

**Iamawsome: Thanks for your support. I'll keep trying to update as fast as possible, like I said. I hope this chapter was as good as the last!**

**Albany: Thanks! I'm sorry I put it on such a big cliff-hanger, but it creates suspense, and I always love to keep readers hooked.**

"_Get down!"_

Alex flung himself to the floor, hauling Ella down with him as the Perspex walls that surrounded them shattered and cracked under the heavy rain of bullets that chewed at them. The roar of the helicopter and the gun accompanied the beat of Alex's heart in his ears as the spray tore apart the capsule. It swung violently as it was brutally attacked, the gunner paying no attention to his accuracy, giving in to the sheer adrenaline and bloodlust of a kill.

Ella was whimpering softly, but al Alex could do for the moment was hold her hand in a vice reminding her he was still there and let the madman have his fill of letting loose a case of bullets. Shards of plastic and metal showered down on them as sparks littered the floor, and Alex had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded. The Eye wasn't moving an inch; the two teenagers were sitting ducks in the carriage, subjected to the torment of an inaccurate gunman.

Mercy had a sick humour, and allowed the couple a moment of peace whilst the helicopter was buffeted and the man was forced to reload. Alex seized his chance,

"STAY DOWN!" He ordered Ella over the shriek of the rotating blades. She didn't respond, which only fuelled Alex's rage. He pulled the pistol he had swiped from Ben's bedroom, the 9mm Browning's metal scuffed and smudged from having been kept pressed against the small of Alex's back.

The former spy knew how to shoot. He had trained with Scorpia on instinctive shooting, and he had much unofficial practise over his missions. He was no stranger to weapons, and he had often utilised anything he could find to defend himself. Today was no exception. He had _borrowed_ the gun when a sinking weight had formed in his stomach. He had ignored it earlier because of Garfield's text and the excitement of going on a date with Ella, but he couldn't have pushed it away for long. MI6 had never bothered issuing him with a weapon of any kind, saying that he was just a child. The surprising irony is that they expected him to save the world with nothing more than a few gadgets and his own wit, but heaven forbid should he get his hands on a single gun. What would the public think?

His mind was clear and blank as he pulled the gun level with his shoulder; he faced his right hand side towards the plane, reducing his body's surface area so it was less of a target. Alex closed his eyes, visualising the sway of the carriage, the hover of the helicopter, the jostling body of the operative. The image in his head blurred until his finger snapped back, the gun flashing and biting angrily at his hand as it spat out its bullet. The tremendous crack was lost in the thundering of the engine and the wind, but the result was still the same. The tiny metal bullet had found its mark, just to the bottom left of the man's right shoulder. He staggered backwards, clutching at his arm as the sudden pain exploded over his body. Alex took two more shots, one finding a mark in the man's left leg, the other shredding its way into his neck. The helicopter was buffeted again, and the man began tottering further forwards, before losing his balance and toppling over the side. Alex watched with grim satisfaction as he plummeted to the dark waters below. As he fell, he erupted into a blazing inferno, reducing his body to ash and dust so that he was long dead and gone before he even touched the river's surface.

The pilot, having seen his comrade just fall to his death, pulled away, having n other use but to fly back to wherever it came from or receive different orders. Alex glanced to the capsule next to theirs, the carriage burnt and smoking. The operative had been a distraction, to get them on the wheel quickly without assessing the dangers. Alex cursed himself for being so stupid, but he had bigger priorities, namely getting Ella to safety, and then himself.

He knelt down, soothing her and rubbing one of her shoulders reassuringly,

"They're gone now. The helicopter's gone." She looked up, her eyes slightly bleary,

"Took you long enough," She mumbled, picking herself up of the floor. But just as she did, there was a mighty explosion, rocking the entire structure. The helicopter had crashed itself! It had purposefully flown into the base!

Alex looked down, scanning the mass of operatives at the base of the London Eye. He could see flames that rose high above him from the wreckage of the aircraft. It would only be a matter of time before the fuel ignited and the entire Eye would be blown to smithereens. He could feel the heat scorching his face, the air hazed with clouds of smoke, darkening what he could see. He listened intently, hearing the tell-tale sounds of metal groaning as it expanded and contracted, and the roar of the burning craft. They were suicidal! It seemed with Omega, no expense was spared, and that included agents. Alex realised, eyes flicking across all nearby carriages that they were empty, the walls and windows charred and blackened. All the other people inside them, they too had been Omega! It was planned from the start! But how had they known?

Ella whimpered again as the carriage they were in lurched out towards the river, bringing Alex back to reality. The flames were licking at the base of their capsule as it leant at a forty-five degree angle over the Thames, smoke billowing in around them. She began to cough, the fumes getting to her lungs. Alex reached over, pulling her neckerchief over he face, motioning for her to get down on the floor again. She did as she was told, and Alex continued searching for their escape. Could they climb down, risking the blaze that flicked and curled around the towering structure? Or could they wait for help? MI6 must keep an eye on him from somewhere, and Ella was already on the list of those in danger from the now-dead man who had been watching her. But from previous experience, Alex knew that MI6 never came, and when they did, it was always too late.

There was another jolt as two carriages were ripped from their pivots on the wheel and they slammed straight down into the icy depths of the Thames. A sudden idea struck Alex! That was how they were going to get down.

Not caring for his own safety, Alex battled the fumes and tore at the hole-ridden window, pulling it apart with all his strength, tearing away at the splintered material with the butt of the pistol. It was hard work, and Alex kept choking on the vapours, but he persisted. His eyes were watering, and he was reminded of the time when he was trapped in the studio of Desmond McCain.

When Alex deemed the hole large enough, Alex beckoned for Ella to stand up, who was still struggling with the fumes despite her protection,

"JUMP!" he yelled over the noise, gesturing wit his hands that she should dive into the river. She looked at him helplessly, overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation and of what her boyfriend was asking of her, "IT'S THE ONLY WAY!"

With the reinforcement, Ella stooped through the hole, clinging to Alex. Tears were pouring down her face, and Alex felt his heart die. He had done this. He had ruined yet another person's life just by his stupid presence! Ella pulled him abruptly, kissing him for her dear life before she pushed him away and fell down to the waters below. Alex watched as she barely made a splash as her body came into contact with the river. Alex searched desperately for her rising form, but he couldn't see her, the smoke blocking his vision and his eyes blurred. Panic set in. Was she dead? Had she hit her head on something?

Without second thought, Alex plunged after her, fearing the worst.

The London Eye behind him suddenly exploded, shrapnel and fire spitting everywhere in all directions. Alex felt the air sucked out of him, the sheer force of the explosion winding him as he fell. He could've sworn he even got flung a little to the side, the gun torn from his grip and further out towards the river. It was a bad scenario to be in; next to no air at all land about to dive underwater and with no weaponry to defend himself, it was not the best of circumstances. Alex had just even time to angle himself correctly as he hit the water, the impact bruising him in ways he never thought were possible.

Murky water seeped into his ears, his nose and his mouth, he stung his eyes as he tried to break the surface, but he couldn't as another carriage collapsed right on to of him. His lungs screamed in protest as he frantically swam away as the melted capsule sunk further down. The water around it swirled with ash and Ale felt himself being pulled along by the wake it was producing.

Ella was there, her leg was trapped by some falling debris, and Alex would have groaned at the cliché moment had she not been in dire trouble. Doubling his efforts, and refusing to leave her for air, Alex swam down, and tired to dislodge the girder of metal. It shifted slightly underneath his fingertips. He strained with all his strength, with Ella giving a helping hand, and slowly the girder came loose and fell down to the riverbed.

They broke the surface together, dirty water and soggy ash clinging to their faces and clothes as they treaded water. Ella pulled the cloth away from her mouth, and Alex motioned for her to swim to the bank, as far away as possible from the burning wreckage that had once been the London Eye. As they swam, the wheel gave one final crack that echoed through the streets as it toppled over down into the river below, its metal supports splintered and molten. No normal fire damage could have done that, and the entire bank was clear of any Omega operatives. They had sacrificed themselves so that Alex and Ella could be killed. The plan left behind no trace, the helicopter burning and all agents involved dead. No evidence to follow back on, Alex slammed his fist into the water out of anger. They had gotten away with endangering his girlfriend and himself.

They swam to shore as sirens could be heard in the distance. As they climbed up the ladders at the side of the river bank, fire engines and police cars were just pulling up along the pedestrianized zone.

"We should leave," Alex muttered to Ella, reaching out and squeezing her hand, "Don't want to be caught and then suspected as arsonists. You're Dad will kill us both." She giggled slightly, but there was something missing from it, missing some emotion. Alex said nothing as they ran to cover,

"Won't we be even more suspicious if we ran?" she asked, not slowing down despite her worries.

"MI6 will clear it up," Alex stated, his primary concerns on getting to safety, "If we stay, and all these officers turn out to be Omega, we could walk right into their trap. They think ahead, and I would very much like to be _out_ of their hands for as long as possible."

"You think they could have corrupted the Police?"

"They'll have corrupted everywhere, if what everyone is saying is true." Alex matter-of-factly said, tugging the girl along and through alleyways. They were cold, and wet and lost for the time being, but so long as Ella was safe, Alex didn't care. They'd worry about all that once he knew they were safe.

They burst out onto a main street, which one Alex wasn't so sure when suddenly a traditional red London Bus pulled up. Its route number was 15, but someone, at some point, had spray painted an 'M' in front of the number to resemble graffiti so it read 'MI5'. Alex inwardly cringed; the British were being just as bad as the Americans.

The bus pulled to a stop, and there, on the entrance at the back stood a large hulking muscular man, whose skin was slightly tanned.

"Alright there Alex?" the man called out from where he was standing, his voice thick with an Australian accent. The teen spy was about to pull Ella along and get out of there, thinking that this would be Omega's trap, when the Australian strangely swapped his accent over to a posh English one – a very familiar English one indeed,

"Alex, old chap, you had better come with me."

"Smithers?" Alex exclaimed incredulously, already heading towards the strange bus, "You're kidding me, seriously?"

"Hop aboard!" the MI6 gadget master said in the same English accent, thumbing a button on his wristband. Alex clambered on, urging Ella to get on to, who with a little reluctance, soon joined Alex.

Inside was completely different. There were no windows, and a door slid shut, trapping them inside. The entire bus, both the first floor and the bottom floor were littered with wires and circuit boards, looking like an estranged laboratory. There was no driver, and where the seat should have been was an industrious looking chair, which Smithers promptly sat down upon.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" he beamed, switching back to the Australian accent.

"You live here?" Ella exclaimed, her own amazement apparent. Smithers chuckled,

"No, just joking. I just wanted it to sound cool," he gestured to around him, "This is the first of its kind, a mobile laboratory and HQ. Full automated, it can drive itself, still be moving and remain active regardless of where it is, and has special camouflage technology that makes it look like a typical, everyday vehicle. It even has people sitting inside it!" Smithers then directed his attention to somewhere upstairs, "Your friends are safe!" he bellowed out over the rumble of the engine. It would seem even highly advanced vehicles couldn't have a quiet motor.

From above, there came a clatter and crash as objects fell to the floor. There were footsteps from above, and then they were heading down the stairs,

"Friends?" A familiar voice called out, "What friends?"

From the spiral staircase came Garfield, wearing a ridiculous looking wielding apron and thick goggles strapped around his face. He had to pull them off just to look at Ella and Alex.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, the third person to be surprised, "You survived; it would seem nothing is impossible with Rider-boy around!"

"Blue! You knew about the Eye?" Alex inquired, wondering whether it was coincidence, luck or actual planning had saved them from being caught by the Police or Omega.

"Ben called. He was rather worried after he heard there was an explosion near there. With Omega and everything about he asked if MI5 could check it out, and we were closest," Garfield explained, pulling of some obscenely huge leather gloves, "When we got there, we saw the entire thing ablaze; neither of you two in sight at all."

"But Agent Viking here," Smithers carried on for Garfield, "Managed to track a route based off of Alex's behavioural notes taken during missions to deduce where he would most likely go. Once we figured that out, we simply went to intercept, and here you are!"

Ella turned to face Garfield, gasping, "You did that? How?"

"With great difficulty, but I find that Rider-boy here is an interesting and complicated individual. It was more of a treat than a challenge. Now, if you don't mind, I've got some 'pencil-pushing' to do." Alex winced; he was clearly still affected by last night. Ella called after him before he went back upstairs,

"Are you okay, by the way? I mean, Mel told me what happened. That swine Wolf shouldn't have said those things to-"

"Nothing happened," Garfield ground out, cutting her off mid sentence, "I'm fine, really. I'm okay." And with that, he turned and dashed back upstairs before she could protest any further.

She directed her attention towards Smithers, "Can I?" she asked, voicing her silent question of asking for permission to go upstairs to talk to him. Australian Smithers nodded, and she dashed up after him. She heard a few muffles, but the noise of the engine and their quietness of talking made it hard to hear them. He gave up after a few moments, he himself turning to face Smithers,

"So," he began, his hand drifting across a nearby table laid out with an assortment of gadgets, "What happened to _my_ Smithers?"

"I am still Smithers, just in a different suit mate," he explained, gesturing to the body, "It's a new persona. The best disguise is never actually a disguise, but a whole new person instead."

Alex took a few seconds to examine the new suit. The muscles were very realistic, and he wore a shirt and tie, with long sleeves. The tie was chequered black and white, and hung loosely around the man's neck, revealing that his top button was undone. The whole appearance was very convincing, and before getting on the bus, Alex had trouble recognising him.

The Australian clicked his fingers, and a small tray began to lift out of the floor in front the chair, on it were a couple of every day items. Alex's face lit up with glee,

"Gadgets!" he squealed rather uncharacteristically, and when Smithers looked at him horrified, he simply shrugged, "What? I haven't had gadgets for a long while. I missed them."

"Well then, mate, you won't be disappointed," He held up one pair of many glasses and sunglasses, "These are very special glasses, because they act both as a microphone and a speaker in one of the handles here," he gingerly ran his finger along the side, "Ultra-sensitive, so be careful. They also act as night-vision, infra-red and can record _everything_ that you see, so you can run over the footage if you're looking for something. Terribly useful things, they are. Also, by tapping the side three times with your fingerprint will activate an alarm system straight to MI6."

He put them down, and picked up a bag, one that looked quite similar to Alex's own, "This is, yet again, a parachute, but it also has lightweight armoured plating on the inside, which is both bulletproof and fireproof. Inside, there is a secret compartment which is lead-lined, allowing for it to pass through scanners without setting them off." He set that down, pushing the glasses into cases and then inside the bag.

His hand wavered over a lighter, "Not very good for your image, I know, but these simply work a treat!" He flicked the cap open, "Looks normal on the outside, but inside there are tiny pellets that when ignited burst into bright balls of light, each one different in colour. Useful to act as flash grenades and distractions, simply set the timer," Smithers twisted the entire top around three hundred and sixty degrees, whilst Alex put on a pair of Smithers glasses, "wait ten seconds, and…" he flicked the lighter past Alex, who watched in fascination as the lighter erupted into many colours, each one growing and then diffusing like bubbles of soap floating through the air.

"Cool," Alex said, once the light show was finished, "Is that all?"

"Unfortunately so, I'm afraid. I haven't had much time to get around to making gadgets, what with Omega and all chasing about. You came back at such short notice I haven't even been able to pull up some archive gadgets for you. This was he best I could get my hands on without arousing suspicion."

"You mean to say that you're giving this to me off the record?" Alex asked, bewildered at the prospect of Smithers going against hierarchy.

"Mrs Jones does not want you in possession of any technology, since you are not technically an agent anymore." Smithers huffed, sharing in Alex's displeasure. There was a long pause of silence where Alex listened to the still muffled sounds from upstairs. He spoke up again to Smithers,

"What's Blue doing here?"

"Agent Viking? He's quite a dab at electronics, excellent at hacking servers and all sorts. He can be rather… _ostentatious_, but when it comes down to results he certainly gets the best. We've been working together on many projects now, him designing the database and computers and me providing the hardware and additional support. Such projects like this, and also the Clock-tower.

"Clock-tower?" Alex asked, more confused than before.

"It's a special facility MI6 was working on before you left. Top secret, but its pretty much nearly finished. Agent Viking is putting it through trials with his Omega investigation." Alex was speechless. Wolf was going to be even more remorseful than before when he finds out about Garfield's workload.

Smithers gestured to a small cupboard at the back,

"I think you need a change of clothes mate," he said, turning is nose up a little, "You stink."

Obviously, the river had left more than just water on Alex's clothes, and he smiled sheepishly while thanking the technician as he went to change.

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A couple of hours later, Ella and Alex were walking along the high street, the top secret bus having dropped them off with a fresh change of clothes, gadgets galore and not a single enemy in sight. Ella had told Alex about Garfield, how he wasn't angry anymore, just disappointed that someone he had admired thought him nothing more than a simpleton. Alex also found out that when Garfield had been at Brecon Beacons, according to Ella, he had looked to Wolf for guidance in hand to hand combat, since the man was apparently the best on site. He'd gotten private tutoring, not having any combat skills at all and had said that Wolf was 'tolerable' on his own when he had no pride to defend.

Alex had explained to Ella about Smithers and how hey went back as far as Alex had been doing missions. She had been disbelieving at first when Alex mentioned the man's most ingenious trick yet; his skin suits. But after much assurance, she had eventually, if not sceptically, accepted Alex's proposal that really, inside the Australian she had seen was n fact a lanky Irish red head. They had been enjoying the calming company of people in the street since their ordeal with the London Eye. The date had turned into a near disaster, and Alex was blaming himself,

"I'm really sorry about what happened today," he started, "I shouldn't have… I should probably leave you alone; I should never have taken you out so soon with Omega having only just tried an attack on my life once already."

"Alex," she said, holding her index finger against his lips, "What happened today could never have been anticipated. They were already watching me; you had nothing to do with that. I chose my own friends, and I chose who I go out with. Just because by coincidence you were there does not mean it had to revolve around you."

"But-" She silence him again,

"Remember when you told me that it was because of you that Sabina's parents were murdered? What if this was the same here that they were trying to kill me to get at you? And this isn't exactly the first time I've been in a sticky situation."

Alex smirked, only to be slapped almost instantly, "I'm serious Alex Rider! I mean that I've been held _hostage_ simply because of my father's work. It was when I was young and Mum was still pregnant; these men raided our house and kidnapped us. Dad was furious when he finally got us back, but it doesn't mean I'm not used to things like this. Dad had us learn how to shoot a gun so we could at least protect ourselves should worst come to worst. It was scary, yes, terrifying even. But that doesn't mean I don't love you anymore. It doesn't mean I'm just going to turn my back on you. This _is_ you, whether you like it or not. You were hardwired to be a spy, even when you've not had practise for a few months you still know how to handle yourself. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now."

Alex sighed, as what she said made sense. He had never figured her to be someone with at least some experience, but then again, he had been wrong about most things about her,

"I don't deserve you."

"You're right, you don't, but I'll be the judge of that." She said, as she leant over and wrapped her arms around her neck, and his arms around her waist. She kissed him, the sky a smoky red as the sun set. It was a perfect moment for Alex, where time slowed and he simply revelled in the sensations he was receiving. His girlfriend had practically just accepted his death-defying lifestyle without even batting an eyelid. When they broke off, Alex looked into her eyes, murmuring from the happiness he was filled with,

"Your Dad's going to kill me, you do realise that?"

"Don't worry," She said, leaning in close and resting her nose against his, "I'll tell him the full truth. If he forbids me from seeing you, I'll sneak out. I am **not** some little girl anymore, and to be honest, I find you exhilarating. I had never been so hyped in all my life!" She giggled as they fell apart from the hug, but continued holding hands, "You just make sure you don't go and get yourself killed again. I'm not sure I can find another Alex Rider."

The two laughed a little, turning down a side street that was nearly empty apart from some shopkeeper sweeping up outside his shop. Something caught Alex's eye, and he pulled Ella along t the shop window with him. He peered through the glass.

"What are you looking for?" Ella asked,

"Something for Ben, remember. I told you this whilst we were revising?" Alex replied, glancing back at her.

"Oh, yeah. Of course, so what have you found?" He pointed inside the shop window, to something obscured at the back of the display. She had to squint to see it properly. When she finally noticed what it was she smiled, looking back at him.

"It's perfect," He said, grinning ear to ear, pulling out some money from his pocket.

**So, sorry that was late.**

**Did you guys enjoy the drama! The explosions! Death defying stunts!**

**Now that I'm back on track, I've noticed a dwindling of reviews. Like I said before, I will now try and respond to all reviews now posted from now on in upcoming chapters. I shouldn't really be complaining, but it's always nice to know that some people take the time to comment on things I do well, and things I don't. Concrit is gladly accepted.**

**Your reviews are great by the way. No… seriously… they are. ^_^ Look forward to more thrills and chills. Or spills, was it? Or pills (well not pills, chips… *hint hint*).**

**Thanks – K9**


	14. Threat

**Responses to your reviews:**

**Nikki the spy: Thanks and yeah, Sabina gave up, it would seem. Ella's going to stick with Alex, but then again she is used to a thrilling and exciting life. ;)**

**Albany: Omega is stepping up their game, and plotting has commenced, MWHAHAHA XD Your question is answered in this chapter and Gracias!**

**Anonymous: Quite right, it isn't which is why they're finally making a comeback. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks!**

**Fanfictionaddict1: That's okay, and thanks. You can't have Alex Rider without Smithers.**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Indeed it is. Thanks. It just seems to keep getting worse for Alex DX the bus idea was a request from a friend of mine.**

**MyOpium: Don't worry, we're building steadily and you'll see more of the characters as we go along. Thanks for the review, and keep on reading!**

**Chapter 14:**

The next day, Alex awoke to the dreary sound of his alarm, set earlier than usual for the exam period. His whole body was stiff and achy, and the many cuts and bruises he had sustained from his close escape from the burning London Eye stung slightly as he pulled himself out of bed.

When Alex had arrived back home, Ben had given him an hour long lecture on how reckless and stupid he had been for allowing himself to be followed into such a weak spot, stealing the spy's pistol and then only to lose it. Alex had grown bored easily, but the man was furious. He was still glaring daggers at Alex as they passed on the landing. Ben's footsteps thumped on each step, as if to reiterate his point that he was still angry with Alex. The teen sighed; it was going to be a_ long_ day.

He showered and changed, heading downstairs for breakfast when he heard a muffled female voice talking. A news report on TV was on, the reported delivering each and every detail they had managed to ascertain on the disaster. MI6 had called yesterday, after receiving word from Garfield about it. The helicopter couldn't be traced, and the wreckage of the Eye still needed to be examined.

Ben was sitting watching the report, instead of his usual place by the kitchen counter. There was no coffee mug in his hand, but Alex's breakfast lay out ready for him, just like the previous few days. There was a lingering air of tension between the two, but neither of them saying anything about it.

Alex ate in silence, the only noise coming from his chewing and the reporter,

"_The London Eye was the scene of a disaster today, as a violent explosion shook the city's most iconic landmark attractions. Witness reports tell us that the large, 135 metre tall Ferris Wheel, which has been standing since the year 2000, collapsed into the River Thames after moments of carnage. Footage recovered from nearby CCTV cameras show two individuals jump from the top most capsule upon the Eye's destruction. Police are urging these people to come forward, and anyone else to give evidence that may help their investigation it this alleged terrorist attack. EDF Energy has released a statement saying that 'We are truly sorry that such an attack on a modern day landmark has taken place. We are doing our upmost best to reach a conclusion to this horrific event, and our condolences go out to the families and friends who have lost a loved one in the blast," _Alex smirked. They were Omega; they didn't have loved ones, _"…EDF has also stated that repairs will be underway as soon as possible, with costs of damage and future reparations will be reaching the near £5 million."_

"It's a miracle you and Ella survived that," Ben said absent-mindedly, not particularly to Alex but more in reaffirmation in the truth. Ben was angry, yes, but he had also congratulated Alex on the boy's quick thinking and daring escape, which saved both his life but mainly Ella's as well. The teen had been forced, by Ben, to detail every aspect of what happened, whether it was included in the report Alex had given or not. The younger spy had explained what happened for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day, making sure to replay the events, word for word.

Alex had told him about how they had been chased through the streets of London by Ella's stalker, how they had nearly been gunned down and killed by the helicopter, that Alex had shot the man saving them from any further onslaught. Ben had listened with calm fascination and despair as he then went on to tell him about the crash, and how he and Ella had been forced to jump into the river to save themselves, and then met up with Smithers and Garfield later after fleeing from the wreckage. It was a nerve wracking experience, Alex agreed, having Ella placed so close to danger. The young teen could handle situations like that by himself pretty well, but with someone so close to him by his side in the same peril was a wrenching thought. Ben and Snake must've been going through the same feelings, and Alex truly understood why the man had been so furious.

"Be careful," ben warned, just as they were about to leave, "They've demonstrated that they've got hardly any limits and will stop at nothing to get to you." The adult spy had been referring to Omega, the new found bane of Alex's life. It seemed that Blunt had been the least of his worries.

Before they left as well, Alex remembered something he and Tom had been discussing the previous day during revision upon mention of Bens birthday. He had forgotten to bring it up due to Ella's date, Blue's outburst and the burning Eye; stuff had all piled up and it had slipped Alex's mind to bring it up sooner,

"Can Tom stay over tonight?" he blurted out, tentative as Ben's expression wasn't one of acceptance, "It'll just be for tonight, because his parents are getting a bit rough at the moment, and he needs just to get a night away from them. He'll be good, I'll see to that." Alex appeased, trying to win his guardian over. Ben sighed,

"Alright, but just for tonight; next time ask me earlier than the very day he'll be coming over."

On the way to school, Alex made sure to thank Ben profusely for his consideration and kindness. Ben had blushed, an unexpected pride welling up in him. Alex had treated him, for once, like an actual parent, and it felt good. Maybe today wasn't going to be such a bad birthday for him, despite Alex not knowing.

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At school, the mood had been sombre between the teens. Tom and Mel were fretting over talking to Garfield, unsure of where they stood with him, whilst Garfield had been busying himself inquiring about Ella and Alex, asking if they were okay from yesterday's trauma. It had been more for Ella's sake, Alex knew, but to put the girl solely on the spot would have been a bad idea. She could be brutal when she thought she was being treated differently.

"Is he okay?" Tom whispered to Alex about the other boy, who was going over some notes with Ella so she could refresh her memory. They were sitting outside on one of the many school benches,

"He says he is, but I don't buy it," Alex whispered back, "He's acting sort of… _distant_. I think what Wolf said to him has really gotten to him."

"I thought Garfield was supposed to be the super-cool, calm and collected thief?" Tom asked confused, "He was _that_ affected by what Wolf said?"

"Apparently," Alex said, sighing in resignation, "it would seem that even the best of us have or weaknesses; even me." Ella's image came to mind in Alex's head. He swore to himself never to let anything like that happen to her again, "Just don't mention this to him, Tom. He's not the type to accept that he has issues he needs to deal with."

"Mr Rider!" someone called out behind them.

The entire group turned in the direction of where the voice had come from, searching for whom it belonged to. Striding over, was the lanky form of Mr Riddle. His suit had crease all over, as though he had slept in it overnight, and his thinning hair was dragged back across his scalp. Alex had found that wherever the new headmaster went, doom and gloom surely followed.

"Might I have a word, Mr Rider?" the man asked, though it was rather an order than a request.

"But sir," Alex began in protest, "I have to revise, and the exams will be starting shortly."

"It won't take but a moment Mr Rider." The man pivoted on his heel, and began walking back in the direction of the school. A personal request to talk by the head teacher was one that should not be ignored, and the man's tone had been anything but polite. Alex sighed, getting up and reassuring his friends that he'll see them later, before following after the depressing individual.

Once he caught up, Mr Riddle led Alex down a series of corridors and down a flight of stairs. Alex knew where they were going, but it was nowhere near any other part of the school. Rounding a corner, they came face to face with the main supply closet, where heavy equipment or large items were stored for the school. It was the most secluded room in the building, and pupils often snuck down here to have a quick drag or a swig of cheap alcohol.

Mr Riddle pulled out a pair of keys, jingling through them until he came to correct one. With the door unlocked, the head master opened the door for Alex to walk through, gesturing him to do so. Obligingly, Alex stepped through, and the smell of must and mould hit his sinuses, and he had to take a moment to get used to the stench. From behind him, the man flicked a switch, and several bare bulbs above him shuttered into life, their dim and measly glow casting the room in an eerie light. There wasn't much floor space, and what little there was had a layer of grime over it. Shelves were paved along every wall, and in the middle of the room cabinets and sports equipment stood, leaning against one another. The room was in shambles, and Alex could understand why very few teachers ever braved this place, daring to come inside and root for something. A part of Alex wondered whether there might be an infestation of rats or insects in there somewhere.

Turning back around, he caught a glimpse of Mr Riddle turning the key back in the lock, which clunked into place, sealing them both inside the closet. Alex suddenly became tense. He was in a very bad situation, and instantly he began summing up his options; act innocent and ride this out or demand for the door to be unlocked and to be let out. Alex chose the former, his acting smooth and believable,

"What are we doing sir?" he asked, feigning naivety, "I hope this won't take long, sir. I've got exams I need to get to on time-"

"Cut the bullshit, Rider," Mr Riddle snapped his usual scratchy voice very powerful and demanding, "We both know you're not some little schoolboy."

"I don't know what-" Mr Riddle slammed his hand against a nearby counter top, the sound resonating throughout the cold room,

"I said, cut the bullshit!" he stalked forwards, towards Alex, his height towering over the teen, "They just look past you like you're the weak little sick child with problems, but I can see you." He sneered, baring yellowed teeth, "I know who you are…"

"Who I am?" Alex asked incredulously, trying desperately to fool the man into thinking he'd been mistaken. This was bad; very, _very _bad. Mr Riddle straightened himself out to his full height,

"A while back, shortly after your uncle died, you called in sick for two weeks after complications with flu. It was understandable, the former head master had to be lenient, as you _had_ just lost a family member close to you, and so it passed without much thought. Then, after that it's a string of never ending illnesses, ranging from inconvenient appendicitis to weakened immune systems. It is impossible for one boy to be _that_ sick, so I did some research. Some teachers notice you get on edge sometimes, like you're about to run, and the sports teacher tells me you've got some interesting scars, none of which add up to your impediments. More particularly, a scar right over you heart." Mr Riddle prodded Alex's chest abruptly, earning a pained yelp from Alex, "A _bullet wound_ scar. So I did some research, called a few old friends in the force who might have heard about a teenage boy being shot in the heart, not often you get a case like that, but all I get is dead ends and blank walls. You had left, but it seemed to me like someone was hiding something. So I call on one of my old contacts, a Mr _Harold Bulman_. Now he had some very intriguing stuff to say about you. That you work for MI6, that you're a teenage spy and that you once trained with the SAS."

Alex's blood ran cold. He knew. Mr Riddle knew. The man cackled, a menacing and evil sound,

"And I believe him, because I've been watching, Alex. I've been watching you for _such_ a long time."

"What happened to Mr Henry Bray?" Alex demanded his tone steely and hard, "And Miss Bedfordshire? Who are you, and what do you want with me?" The man snarled again,

"I want the truth to come out Alex; maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And I want to watch you squirm and wither as your country falls around you. Why? Because you, dear Alex, are part of something much bigger," he stooped down, so that his cracked lips were next to Alex's ear, "Tell anyone about me, and Ill have that girlfriend of yours killed. The very instant you breath a single word and her throat will be cut. You'd be murdering her just by defending yourself. A _murderer_, Alex."

He hadn't realised it at first, but Alex could now feel himself shaking. Not out of fear, but out of anger. His fists were clenched so tightly his nails wee digging into the skin, breaking the toughened surface and drawing thin lines of blood. His heart was pounding in his ribcage as the deceitful and arrogant little man smiled as though he had won. Rage roared and slammed itself in Alex's mind, but he quelled it,

"You'll pay for this," Alex mumbled, "I'll do whatever you want me to do, but you. Will. Pay."

"Oh, I don't think so Alex," Mr Riddle said, his snide little grin making Alex sick, "You won't ever get the chance. Now, tell me where your friend Tom Harris will be staying tonight." Alex reeled slightly; what did he want with is friend? Why did he want to know where he'll be?

"Tell me, Alex, or she dies." He threatened, leering over Alex menacingly.

"With me, I invited him over for a sleepover," Alex said, telling the last minute decision of truth in fear of what the man might do to Ella. Mr Riddle scowled slightly, before recovering quickly,

"No matter, the plan may still go ahead, just with _slight_ alterations."

"What do you-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Alex. No questions. None or she dies. Remember that, boy. She will be killed if you mention of this to anyone." He sneered once more, before turning around, unlocking the door and swivelling back to face Alex before the boy could attempt anything. The door swung open on its hinges, and Alex growled at the man as he left.

He strode out purposefully past the pathetic man, but before he had gone too far, the head master called out to him, "Remember Alex, I'll be waiting, and I **will** be watching."

Alex scowled as he barged down corridors to the exam. He couldn't go to MI6, he couldn't tell his friends; he couldn't even tell Ben but above all; he couldn't tell Tom. It was his worst nightmare come true. Was Mr Riddle with Omega? It had seemed like it, but the man had had to go through research to find out who he was; he wouldn't have told him that. But the phrase he had said was familiar; was he copying them in a vain attempt to somehow gain something valuable? Or was he actually one of their operatives? If no, then who was he? What were his motives and what did he want with Tom? Questions were screaming through Alex's head as he turned down more corridors and up the flight of stairs. What had happened to the old staff? Alex knew from his friends that there had been some shift around with Ofsted, but Alex was beginning to think otherwise. A rival agency? It was possible, but unlikely. They could use Tom as blackmail material, but they wouldn't have approached him like this. A different criminal organisation then, other than Omega? Hardly likely either, they wouldn't have been so forthcoming inside a place where information could leak easily. _**He**_ would have been kidnapped, or abducted, then told about what they knew about him and then released him with specific instructions. But it wasn't impossible either, and the man's tone had suggested he had connections and certainly meant to carry out his threat. But it was as if Mr Riddle was an amateur, and was just clutching at straws. But he had involved Ella and Tom into this mess, and Alex was **not** happy at all.

Alex came to a sudden stop as he found himself outside exam hall. He took a deep breath, and went in, for now focusing his mind on the task ahead.

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Alex and his friends headed back to the young spy's house. They had plans later for Ben, and they had to get everything ready. All the way back, they chatted and talked between one another whilst Alex kept to himself, his mind still dwindling on his talk with the head master. There were thousands of questions he was asking himself, and he was annoyed with himself that Ella and Tom had been placed right back into danger, even if they didn't know it.

"Well, can I come? Am I staying?" Tom asked abruptly, jumping right in front of Alex. It took the teen spy to realise he was referring to the sleepover, which he too had seemingly forgotten this morning. Alex supposed that the other boy did have his parents to deal with, exams pressuring him to do well in something he wasn't all that good at, and he had his new trusty friend Garfield to be concerned about, so it was natural to assume the teen had been a little overwhelmed.

His expression was pleading; Alex knew about what was going on in his life and understood completely,

"Yep, I cleared it with Ben, you can stay the night." He voice sounded foreign, almost detached from his own body, like it belonged to someone else. Tom was the only one that noticed, catching on to the lack of emotion,

"You seem… troubled," he said sniffing his shoulder, "Something up?" Alex had to think quickly; if someone found out Ella would be killed,

"I was just thinking," he lied hastily, "about the exam. I don't think I did all that well." It wasn't exactly a lie, Alex had been nervous throughout the entire thing, his thoughts constantly distracted by the situation posed to him by Mr Riddle. He'd knuckled down eventually, pushing away those thoughts briefly, but now they were back. Alex's lie diverted the subject easily enough, and soon conversation had turned to how the exam went. He let out an inward sigh of relief, not actually relieved as he was still on edge, but thankful he had managed to avoid incriminating himself and risking Ella.

They arrived back shortly after that incident, Alex taking out his key Ben had had made for him and opening the door for his friends. Inside, they were greeted by Will and Terry,

"Alex! It's good to see you again!" Terry said, working away in the kitchen, preparing food. A large, unidentifiable box stood on the kitchen counter, with what Alex presumed to be the cake inside it.

"It's good to see you too, Terry," Alex said, nodding his head as Will passed by him and then teens, holding what looked to be decorations, "Did you bring everything?"

"Yes," Will said, dumping the box on the coffee table, "Could you start getting these up?" He gestured towards the box he had just put down, and Ella and Mel got to work, rifling through the box and pulling out banners and deflated balloons.

"You're friend keeping Ben up?" Terry inquired, referring to Garfield, who had gone to MI6 to delay Ben so that they had more time. Alex nodded, heading into the kitchen with Tom,

"Anything we can do?" Tom asked, eyes looking over the assortment of food the brothers had brought with them from their restaurant. Since it was summer, and Ben loved his spicy food, there were lots of curry dishes, and other side salads.

"You can help by carrying this all into the dining room," he said to Tom, who began to pick up trays and obediently took them to the next room. Alex was about to do the same when Terry caught his arm, "There's a letter for you, by the way. It's near the door." Alex nodded once again, and made his way back, past the girls who were pinning up a 'Happy Birthday!' banner across the mantle of the fireplace.

True to his word, there was letter on the side where Ben normally kept _his_ letters. But this one was addressed to Alex, his lone first name written on the front in fancy text. For a brief moment, he thought it was Sabina, and hastily ripped open the letter, pulling out the few contents it had. One was a photograph, and the other was a single piece of card. Alex examined the photo first.

It was a picture of the London Eye in flames.

With a sick feeling settling in his stomach, he looked to the card. On one side was Ω, printed in a bold gold ink and engraved into the card. On the other side, in the same print were the words 'We're still waiting.' Furious, Alex very nearly scrunched up the card, thinking it was a joke by Mr Riddle, but he stopped himself. The man couldn't have known he had been there that day; yet here was a photograph of the very event itself, with an Omega calling card. This was the real thing, at last, physical proof that could possibly be traced back to them. He'd give it to Garfield later to aid in his investigation. Ben wasn't the apt choice, since today was his special day, after all.

Slipping it into one of his blazer pockets, Alex excused himself from the commotion downstairs to go and change, Ella going with him. Each one of his friends had brought a spare change of casual clothes, and had agreed they would change at Alex's, the girls taking the bathroom in turns, and Tom and Alex using his bedroom in turns. Tom would then set up his overnight bags and whatnot in Alex's room, so that he could talk with the spy through the night.

Ella pecked him on the cheek suddenly, before she sneaked into the bathroom and locked the door. Alex chuckled at her antics, and went to go change himself.

When he was coming back down, dressed in a pair of long denim shorts, a snug black tee shirt and his wooden beads tied firmly around his neck, the doorbell rang. Everyone froze, thinking Ben had come back early. They all threw themselves behind something, covering their bodies from view as Alex opened the door, praying that it was just a false alarm.

Fortunately, it was. K-Unit stood sheepishly on the step, each bearing gifts and huddled under the porch roof. Alex let them in, but got pulled to the side by Snake. This had been the moment Alex was dreading, and had forgotten about it at school, what with the ruckus caused by Mr Riddle and his bizarre questions.

"Snake, I-" Alex began, but got cut off by the medic, who spoke quietly,

"I know about what happened, Ben told me the general story, and Ella filled in the blanks. I don't blame you, although I am cross and frustrated that it happened. What you did was admirable; you saved my little girl's life and for that, I am forever indebted to you. Just… just keep her safe, Cub. I don't know what I'd do if she got hurt."

"I understand, Snake," Alex responded, a little shocked by Snake's speech, "I don't want to see her hurt either." The medic chuckled, slapping Alex on the back, but the sound was forced, as the spy sensed underlying emotions in the laugh.

In the living room, everyone crept back out once realising the guest of honour hadn't yet arrived, and instead greeted K-Unit. It seemed that Will and Terry had already met the soldiers before.

"They come tour restaurant every now and again," Will explained, "They're good customers, and in return for looking after our brother we give them special discounts."

Alex shrugged, expressing he didn't quite care, and continued helping everyone set up the house. The food was ready, streamers littered the rooms and balloons were blown up and now scattered everywhere. The finished product looked like a bunch of fiver year olds had been given sugar and then set lose with the decorations, but no one particularly cared; it was supposed to be a _**fun**_ surprise party.

With everything sorted, and people taking a break to prepare themselves, Alex's phone began to ring. The music 'I'm Blue' by Eiffel 65 rang out, and Alex glared to Tom he just laughed his head off at Alex's expression of both embarrassment and loathing. If only looks could kill…

"Hello?" Alex answered it, already knowing who was on the other end,

"The Fox has left the den," Garfield said on the other end,

"What?" A groan came down the line,

"I'm going to kill Harris. He told me that you wanted to talk in code; and I believed him," Alex swore he heard something slam against something hard, and he winced going through the possibilities, "Listen, Rider-boy. Ben's just left. Seemed to be in a bit of a hurry but I'd already kept him back long enough. He's dropping by his office, where Smithers is going to hold him up a little longer so I get a head start. You've got about fifteen minutes by my judgement."

"Fine," Alex replied, "We'll be ready. Ring the doorbell twice so we know it's you and not _him_." The line went dead, and Alex turned to face everyone else, who were all looking at him raptured, "He's on his way."

They all jumped into action, K-Unit hiding the presents in the dining room along with the food, whilst the teens went about shutting all the curtains and turning off all the lights. Five or ten minutes later, Garfield turned up, bearing his own gift. Alex answered the door on the second ring, letting in the blue-haired technician.

Then they waited for Ben to show up in uneasy silence. It didn't help with the fact that Garfield was purposefully trying to ignore all of K-Unit, whilst Wolf made a pitying attempt to talk to the teen. He opened his mouth, but the words e wanted to say never came out, and instead an incomprehensible sound just escaped. Eagle and Lion thought it was hilarious, and so did Tom and Ella. Garfield wasn't impressed, and Alex watched him intently for any reaction. Wolf tried again, but got cut off by a key in the lock; Ben had come home.

They rushed into position, each hiding behind furniture or out of sight in the dark. Alex went to greet him, covering up the fact that there were just under a dozen people waiting in the shadows. Ben looked at him quizzically,

"Why's the house so dark?"

"I've got a headache," Alex lied, "And I couldn't find any aspirin, so I improvised. Do you have any, because it'd be really useful?" The teen knew exactly where they were, it was one of the first things Ben had made it a must for Alex to know where the medication was kept; third cupboard downstairs in the kitchen on the left, top shelf off to the right. It was just a ruse to keep Ben thinking about why Alex was being weird and to get him into the living room where the ambush laid waiting.

"You know where they are. Haven't we-"

"SURPRISE!" Everyone yelled in unison as Ben flicked the lights on, disregarding Alex's headache. His hand flew to the holster inside his jacket, but once realisation kicked in he straightened himself out,

"You know that just sounded really cliché…" Ben said, "Who organised this?" No one moved, not willing to blame Alex. They had agreed that to put him on the spot might mean repercussions for the teen. But it seemed Tom had already forgotten about his agreement, who was excitedly pointing an accusing finger at Alex, jumping up and down like a hyperactive rabbit,

"It was him!" Tom burst out, a gigantic grin spread across his face. Ben turned to follow the finger, tracing it back to Alex who was glaring daggers at the teen.

"You did this?" Ben asked, his tone mixed with bemusement, anger and a little bit of happiness that Alex had bothered to remember his birthday. The younger spy nodded,

"You've been great to me, so I'm returning the favour," he stepped beside Ben and into the room, "Happy Birthday, Ben."

"Happy Birthday, Benny," the brothers chorused, whilst K-Unit followed suit,

"Happy Birthday Fox," The teens said the same,

"Happy Birthday, Mr Daniels."

Ben turned to Alex, shaking his head whilst chuckling, "Your one strange kid, Alex Rider," he ruffled the teen's hair, much to his indignation, "Fine! If you're going to throw me a party, it may as well be a good one. Where's the alcohol?"

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It was just getting dark when everyone left. Bottles and paper plates littered the house, and wrapping paper sat torn and strewn in a corner of the room. The atmosphere still lingered; laughter and good spirits. The food the brothers had brought was delicious, and Ben promised to Alex that they would visit the restaurant some time In the near future.

The man's presents had also been left where they lay, on the dining room table. K-Unit had pitched in and bought their comrade a bunch of mugs, having very little idea of what to get him that he might want. The brothers told Ben that their food was the gift, having catered for the entire group for free, with a giant cake to top everything off. The teens had given Ben simple but effective cards, most having some cash inside (although he had very little use of the small amount they had given him). Alex's guardian had very kindly let Tom off for not giving anything, the young spy had informed Ben of the teen's position, and he saw the relief on Tom's face when Ben had told him it was the 'thought that counts' and that it was the best card by none, out of all of them.

Everyone had then turned to Alex, who said that his present was a secret, sharing a knowing look between Ella and himself. The night had gone after that, with slices of scrumptious cake being passed around and drinks being poured. They were all going home by either taxi or underground, knowing full well that they would probably be drinking that night.

Ben had even allowed the teens _some_ alcohol, but not too much, such to their dismay. They _were_ only fifteen or sixteen after all.

Tom, half way through the night, had set himself the death defying task of irritating Alex, something only his difficult friend could do. It had taken Tom no more than one hour of rubbing a balloon non stop against the spy's head until Alex was chasing him round the house, balloon still attached to head and hair sticking in all directions. The threats he was shouting after Tom were quite imaginative by Ben's standards, and he put an arm out to halt Alex in his tracks before he went flying through the living room after the hyperactive teen,

"Alex," Ben said firmly, "Ella and Snake are leaving." He needn't have said it twice; Alex calmed down instantly, slightly more sombre at the mention of his girlfriend's name. Tom giggled merrily from the safety of the sofa whilst Alex glared at him, a look telling the teen that 'I-will-get-you-later'. Snake stood by the door, patting Fox on the back before he left to give Ella and Alex some time alone. Ben copied Snake, heading into the lounge where he promptly asked Tom to come help him with his bed for the night.

"So…" Alex started, a feeling of déjà vu washing over him, having stood in the same spot only a few nights ago, "I'll see you tomorrow?" Ella smirked, reaching up to brush down Alex's unruly hair,

"Of course," she said, a sly smile spreading across her face, "Wouldn't be complete without my McDonald charm."

"Oh yes, whatever would we do without you?" Alex said, in mock-horror, before adding gently, "Sleep well." Ella smiled a twinkle in her eye before reaching u and kissing Alex softly. From behind them, they heard incessant sniggering,

"You make such a great couple!" Tom finally said, just as Ben was dragging him by the waist upstairs, heaving with all his might against the struggling teen, "No! I wanna stay and watch!"

"Act your age, will you?" Ben said, getting frustrated with the childish teenager, "We have to go and get you set up!" Tom made a huff, but refused to move by his own accord, and ended up being lifted up by Ben and carried over is shoulder. Alex and Ella just laughed as they watched Tom's stormy expression over the man's shoulder.

"Well, good bye then," Ella said, after watching the retreating pair.

"See you," Alex replied, waving her off as she and Snake left for the tube. He closed the door, and sighed when he heard banging and crashing coming from his room. Ben came stumbling down the stairs, flustered,

"I," he began, "am never going to have him over again!" Alex chuckled as Ben heaved in air,

"He isn't that bad," Alex said defending his best friend, "You just need to work out the kinks with him and then cope. He's helped me a lot back when…" his voice trailed off at the end, the known implication of spying work in the household. It seemed to Alex the only way that he and Ben could refer to the espionage part of their lives, with lingering silence.

"Right," Ben said, disbelieving that Tom was bearable, "Who else is left?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Eagle and Lion I think. I called a cab for them, they can split the fare."

"Are they _still _talking?" Ben inquired incredulously, "They've spent nearly the entire time talking to one another."

It was true, since Ben had opened the assortment of presents he'd been given, the two soldiers had separated themselves from everyone, only chipping in to the general conversation every now and again. It had seemed odd to Alex, but Wolf had shrugged it off as close friendship; Lion and Eagle shared stuff in common. The unit leader had grumbled about both of them stealing his coffee rations once, to which Alex had laughed hysterically, much to the man's annoyance. The thought reminded him of Garfield that night, who had remained frosty towards Wolf at all costs, refusing to properly talk with him. It was only when he noticed their absence from the main group that Alex had investigated their disappearance, excusing himself under the pretence that he needed to relieve himself. He had crept upstairs, only to hear voices coming from Ben's bedroom,

"_Look, I told you I'm sorry about what I-"_

_Don't apologise. You were right, and I was wrong. Just leave it, Wolf. Forget it ever happened." _

"_How can I forget that?" _There had been a moment of silence,_ "Did you really look up to me?"_

"_Don't flatter yourself… but yes. How couldn't I? During the courses you were probably the first person in my life to treat me as an equal. Not a snob, not a criminal, not a child but a person. Then, when the lesson was over and people were watching you just resorted back to insults. It hurt every time you did that, you know?"_

"_I'm sor-"_

"_Don't Wolf, just don't…"_

Alex had had to duck into the bathroom quick to avoid being caught. They had been genuine with their feelings, Alex deduced, but there was still tension between them. When he had come back downstairs, Wolf kept glancing at Alex, his eyes flicking away when they made contact as he trying to be discreet. Garfield fixed Alex with a stare for a while with a knowing look; it wasn't hard to work out that Alex had been upstairs and had probably heard their entire conversation. But neither of them mentioned it for the rest of the evening, and had both left at relatively the same time. Alex wondered whether it had been just a coincidence, or a chance to talk more without any prying ears. Knowing Garfield though, it was probably the latter.

Alex was brought out of his musings as Ben ushered out the two soldiers. Their taxi had arrived a couple of minutes ago, and the teen hadn't noticed. He really needed to start being more aware of his surroundings, even if he was at home.

'No… _house,_' Alex mentally chided himself. He couldn't be lulled into a state of false security.

With Eagle and Lion safely sent on their way home, Alex and Tom helped Ben clear up.

"We can take down all the decorations tomorrow," Ben compromised, "Just clear the plates and bottles."

It was a nightmare, throwing away all the paper plates and half eaten food. They managed to fill at least two bags full of rubbish, and the fridge was left stuffed full of leftover food. By the time the three of them were finished, they were exhausted. They all sat in the lounge, just resting from the exertion. A large brown paper bag sat to one side of the sofa. Intrigued, Alex peered inside,

"Hey, Ben," he said, gaining the man's attention, "I think you've still got a present to open." Ben took a look over Alex's shoulder at the bag,

"That's not mine; Smithers gave it to me. Said he was sorry for not being able to give this to you sooner, but it was a prototype they'd only just finished. He wants you to test it out."

"Prototype?" Tom questioned, but Alex just shrugged, in the dark as much as Tom was. Smithers hadn't mentioned this.

He heaved the large present out of its bag, and set it on the now clear coffee table. It was heavy, and wrapped in non-assuming brown paper, the same style as the bag. There was string tied around it, giving it the impression of a parcel freshly delivered; there were no blemishes on the paper, no scuff marks or bruises either.

Alex pulled at the string, the knot coming undone easily in his hands. The paper fell away to reveal a box, with 'PS3' written all over the sides. He glanced to Ben, thinking this was just a joke by the man, but he was just as gobsmacked as him. Tom was shocked too; having wished for all is life that he could have one of the game consoles. Stuck to the side was an discreet envelope, which Alex snatched and ripped open:

_Dear Alex,_

_This is the prototype Portable Supercomputer 3__rd__ generation, or 'PS3'. I had much fun making one of these. Works just like the real thing, except has a special menu option in the system section. There should be an option there titled 'System Recalibration'. Using that, the 'PS3' reverts to subroutine programming, and becomes a MI6 computer that integrates with just about anything electronic, and can contact the Clock-tower at any given moment. It's the third one we've made, our World Investigation Intelligence didn't work out so well for the first generation, and some of the technicians found faults with the eXecutive BrOadcasting eXpansion Console, and we had many tries at that too, through all the generations. But this seems to be working best, as far as we can tell. We just need you to trial it and see how it operates. _

_Have fun!_

_Smithers_

Alex laughed in surprise. That man was impossible sometimes. HE handed to letter over to Ben, who had the same reaction. Tom grabbed the letter and began reading, his grin getting wider and wider as he went down the page. When he had finished, his head rose slowly making both Alex and Ben shiver in fear,

"Can we set it up now?" he asked, his hands shaking in anticipation. Alex looked to Ben for confirmation; it _was_ getting late,

"No," he said firmly, "You can visit some other time and play, but not tonight." Tom began whining, but Ben ordered him upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. Alex was about to follow out of habit before Ben pulled him by the shoulders, out of the way, "I've got something for you, though."

Alex's mind spiralled to think what Ben could possibly have for him. The man led Alex out into the garden, where Alex saw a deep hole dug out to one corner, and a potted tree sapling next to it. Ben must've dug it up when either Alex wasn't here, probably yesterday, but he was curious as to what Ben had in store for him.

"I did some digging…" he started, hesitating as to what to say. Alex quipped easily,

"Yes, I can see that," Ben just groaned,

"Not that kind, well, yes that kind, but no… I mean, I did some _research_," he shot Alex a glare, as if daring him to challenge the statement, but continued when none came, "And I found out her name. Your housekeeper's that is. I remembered how you said she didn't have a funeral, so I thought that maybe you'd like at least a memorial. It was the best I could manage."

Ben picked up something wrapped in a canvas, just to side of sapling, and pulled away at the fabric, revealing a plaque, screwed to a post. The bottom half was shaped like a stake, and was obviously for being driven into the ground to remain upright. Ben handed it to the bewildered teen, who read the inscription,

"Thank you…" Alex muttered after a while, eyes glistening, "I never knew… I never got a chance…" he sniffed, composing himself, "I never got a chance to say goodbye." Ben nodded solemnly, taking back the plaque, reading it aloud,

"Jacquelyn Maria Starbright. 1983 – 2010. A dear friend and loving sister. She will never be forgotten… sorry it sounds so cheesy Alex, but I didn't really know what to put; figured I'd improvise."

"It's fine… it's great." Alex confirmed as Ben picked up the sapling, throwing away the pot and gingerly nestling it inside its new home, pulling clumps of soil around it to hold it in place. Standing back from the tree, he and Alex admired his handiwork before the teen broke the silence,

"I should probably give you this now," he said, pulling a badly wrapped present from out of his pocket. It was about the same size of a book, just as heavy but much thinner. It had an odd shape to it too as ben fumbled with the wrapping. Eventually, he managed to tear away at the tape and paper to get at the gift inside. Pulling it out, his heart filled with warmth.

It was a photo frame, a basic present to give, but Alex had placed a picture inside, of him and Ben, taken back at Brecon Beacons that long year ago. It had been done in secret; a few of the soldiers who pitied Alex had helped him to relax for at least one day, allowing him to have some good memories. Ben had thought that the younger spy had forgotten about that day, knowing full well that the Alex had thought of the entire experience as being in hell. But there they were, in solid evidence, smiling away a the camera with Ben's arm round Alex's shoulder. The frame itself was just a moving; all around the sides there were foxes chasing each other, and on the back there was an inscription detailing the photograph, one that Alex must have had done, which read: 2010, Ben and Alex. Fox and Cub; together.

"That was the best day out of the two weeks at Brecon Beacons," Alex explained, "I held onto the photos, just me being sentimental. I never thought I'd actually find a use for it though. I saw the frame, and I thought of it just seemed to click, you know. Like it was meant to be… It sounds stupid, but like fate… I don't know" he would've continued rambling, but Ben pulled him by his shoulder into a half-hug,

"It's perfect," Ben said, murmuring into the teen's hair, kissing it slightly, "Thank you, Alex, for everything." Alex looked up scrubbing his hair free of any incriminating evidence,

"Everything?" Alex queried, unsure what Ben exactly meant. He didn't know what was going on in the man's head, and he would never know,

"Yes. Everything," he confirmed, pulling Alex into a proper hug. Alex blushed, but he let the man embrace him. It was childish, he knew, but just for a moment, he wanted everything to be alright.

Just for a moment.

But everything wasn't alright. Everything was wrong. Omega, MI6 and Mr Riddle.

And Tom.

Everything was turning to hell.

**So there you go, but since I've kept this late, I'm going to give you an extension, just because I'm nice!**

The world spun and rolled around Rachael as she was thrown out of the fourth bar that night. Her breath stank of rancid cigarettes and there was a stench of whisky that lingered around her as well. She cursed and gestured rudely to the bar tender that had just tossed him from the club, unhappy that her stupor had been interrupted. She stumbled to her feet, buildings and people around her dancing in vivid patterns, three of each one. It was fun for a moment to watch the imaginative show, but soon Rachael became dizzy and bored,

"Shhtop it," she slurred, collapsing into group of teenage girls, who squealed and threw her back down to the curb, her back slamming into a muddy puddle, "HEY! Whaddya do that fer…" she called out after them as she staggered back to his feet, wobbling a bit before gaining some balance. She burped a loud and obnoxious sound that rang out around the derelict street. She wiped her mouth against her wrist, smearing the lipstick she had haphazardly put on In the first place. Had she looked in the mirror and been sober, the reflection would have been uncanny to that of a freakish clown. Her mascara was strew in streaks down her face from when she had been crying (why she wasn't sure, but it had felt good to let it go) and her foundation was now stained, forming ugly blotches around her face.

The dress she had been wearing hardly suited her figure. She had abused her body; the few months she had taken to drinking had ruined her natural beauty, and the constant cigarette smoke she inhaled had clogged and shredded her lungs to the point where climbing stairs could be a challenge. She smoothed down the torn and patchy fabric of her dress, a faded black dress that was more the colour of grey after so many washes. The seams had come undone at some point, but then stitched back up with a fluorescent yellow thread, that stood out against the plain fabric. To passers by, she looked like a monster.

She tottered along the road, half stepping on the pavement, half on the tarmac singing a horrible impression of Rebecca Black's Friday. She kept forgetting at which point she was at in the song, and just settled for repeating 'It's Friday' or 'Fun' over and over. Her body swayed and swung as she took one step after another, her feet a shambles as she wandered down the road. With someone like Rachael, on her own, it was likely she would get attacked. A middle aged drunken woman was an easy target, and a predator had already spotted her and watched her from the shadows of the alleyway he was in, licking his lips in anticipation.

She stumbled down towards the alley he was in, and he duked out of sight as she round the corner, not caring where she was going. She was clutching a purse that looked knackered and wrecked a hole in one side where her essentials probably fell out of. She was still singing in the terrible wail of hers as she prattled off another tune of 'If you're happy and you know it' whilst bracing herself against a wall. She vomited on the floor abruptly, the contents of her stomach spewing out onto the dirty alley floor. Acid burned her throat, but the drink helped ebb away the pain, and she coughed, spitting out some bile that had risen as well. It was then that the man decided to make his move.

He stepped out from his hiding place, wrapping a slimy hand around Rachael's mouth, keeping her from screaming out. Another hand ran down her side, pulling at the edges of the dress. She struggled helplessly as the man tried to take advantage of her. Without second thought, she bit into the man's hand clasped around her face, drawing blood. The coppery taste filled her mouth as the man yanked his wounded appendage away, snarling in anger, pain and frustration. She was drunk! She shouldn't be able to fight back.

Rachael scrambled away from the man, the booze clearing from her fogged mind. The reality of the situation was like a detox, and she snapped into focus. She was about to scream, but the man pressed his better hand against her throat, the bleeding one attempting to press down her legs and stop her struggling. Rachael gasped for air, her windpipe being restricted by her attacker's hand. She beat at him wildly with her free arms, but her strength was quickly depleting, and her sight was turning red from the lack of oxygen. Darkness threatened to consume her, and she was about to willingly let go just as she felt the hand leave her throat and abdomen suddenly. There was a gargling sound coming from somewhere as her body collapsed to the floor, adrenaline draining from her.

A different man stood over the would-be rapist, a blade in his hand with a serrated edge, dripping blood onto her dress. The rapist was lying clutching at his own throat as his life was seeping away. She noticed the blood, and how it formed a grotesque pool around her. She shuddered, wanting to be anywhere else but here. Her saviour, still brandishing the knife, held out his hand to help her up. She accepted, putting all her remaining energy into standing up. With shaky legs, she leant against the wall, blood staining her hands,

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely, "You saved my life."

"I wasn't saving your life," the man said, his face obscured by shadows. Rachael was confused,

"But he was going to rape me, and you saved me. That's good enough for me."

"I wasn't saving you from anything," her saviour corrected, puzzling her further. The drunken haze must be affecting her hearing,

"Look, I-" she began, but he silenced her,

"You're still going to die, just not by his hand," her eyes went wide, as the man lunged at her with the knife, "Time to die, Rachael…"

With no one around to hear her screams, Rachael Harris died utter agony.

_Meanwhile_

Sylvester ambled along eh road quickly, evading his pursuers. He weaved in and out of groups, barging past bouncers standing outside club doors. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that the two men in overcoats were right on his tail.

He sprinted across a busy road, angry drivers honking at him whilst the cars screeched on their brakes. One even hit Sylvester's thigh, but he carried on running, gasping for air as he legged it down a narrow street. He heard calls and shouts out at him from behind, whether it were the gang members or the drivers he had no idea, but he kept on running. He had to get away; just keep on running.

His feet pounded the concrete, each step louder and heavier than the first as he slowly ran out of energy to keep going. He was overweight, he knew that, but he had once prided himself on being toned and fit, able to sprint two marathons in one day. But age had weathered him, turned his muscles to no more than fancy tissue that kept him relatively mobile, and his bones to a simple weak structure that gave him shape.

He was a sorry sight, his clothes from a charity store, having sold or gambled most of his possessions (including the clothes) away. What little he had left was of no value, and Sylvester scrimped and saved every penny just for the rush of the game and the false promise of fortune. He tried it all; roulette, poker, fruit machines. None of them seemed to work for him, sucking his sparse cash and emptying his wallet. He was near broke, the only money he made wasn't even his own but the tax payers; Sylvester was a lowly man who had forced himself into a life of benefits and charity of others. People tended to make their grip a little tighter around their belongings and money when he was around.

He slowed down, the sprinting having exhausted him beyond belief. For a moment, he even forgot about the two thugs chasing him down. That was, until he was tackled to the ground by one of them.

He hit the floor in an undignified grunt, the little wind he had being knocked out of him. Large and powerful hands yanked his arms behind his back whilst his face was pressed into the grotty tarmac, the cracks pressing into his face,

"Where's the money" a squeaky voice said behind him. Sylvester would have guessed he'd be in his teens; maybe eighteen or seventeen. They tended to start off young nowadays,

"Give me till Wednesday! I'll have it by then for sure!" Sylvester squealed, not wanting any more pain. It was unlikely he could get the money for them by then, but he could beg on the streets and prey upon the unsuspecting do-gooders… or maybe steal a little off his son. Yes, he seemed to look a little richer at the moment.

"The boss wants the money tonight, and either you pay up in cash, or he'll take what he's owed off you," The thug who was holding him down said, "So what's it gonna be; Ready cash or reddy blood?" They both snickered at their petty joke, which was hardly funny to Sylvester. Then again, he was being held down by a brute of a man with his life being threatened

"Look, fellas," Sylvester bartered, "I'm sure we can work something out! I can pay, I swear, just not in cash…"

"We're listening…" the man on top of him said, pulling his head up a bit by the hair so they could hear him better.

"I know I owe debt, but I've got a son; young, sixteen so completely legal. Take him. No me, please not me." The younger man behind him cackled,

"So you're telling us that you'd offer your own son for prostitution just to save your own neck?"

"YES! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" Sylvester wailed, his morals plummeting through the floor and into the bowels of Hell. Both grunts started laughing,

"Man, that is some shit right there. That's cold, man," the bigger man said, pressing his head back against the ground, grinding it around a little so Sylvester got stones caught in his skin and eye, "And we don't like men who sell out their own flesh and blood…" the thug hissed menacingly in his ear. Sylvester heard slicing sound, as a knife was drawn out of an unknown place. He caught the glint of steel in the corner of his eye, and he began rambling,

"No. NO. Please, I have a son. I need to look after him then. You can't kill me; I'm all he has left apart from his mother. I was joking. HA HA. Joking see? Joking about selling him off. I wouldn't dare. DON'T" he bawled, trying desperately to save his own skin. The knife was edging ever so closer to his back, he felt the icy tip press against his spine. A single tiny push forward and he'd be rendered immobile for the rest of his life, his independence robbed off him. Just as the thug was about to lunge, two gunshots rang out in the dark, startling both him and the man atop of Sylvester. He heard a thud as a body fell to the floor in his line of sight, and looking further back he saw a woman, holding a smoking revolver.

It was a crude choice of weapon, but the woman only intended to use it three times, having shot twice already to down the teenager. The man scrambled off of Sylvester, allowing for him to breathe and clamber out of the way.

"Hey, pretty girly, now why'd you go and do that?" The thug said, clearly not imposed by the gun, edging towards her with the knife at the ready, "Put the toy down and we'll have a nice chat. Maybe even some fun, yeah?" The knife caught the light a second time as he thrust forward with it. But there was a third gunshot, and the man collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap, moaning as blood seeped from his chest. He clutched at it, somehow trying to stem the flow, but he grew weak, and eventually fell limp, his hand falling near Sylvester. He shoved it away, horrified a dead man's skin had touched him.

The woman stooped down to inspect the knife that he had had, twisting it this way and that, examining the blade,

"Thank you," Sylvester said, stumbling up, "How can I repay you?" The woman didn't register him, talking only to herself,

"A primitive and basic tool, but it will do," she then turned to face Sylvester, a blank look that made the gambler's blood run cold, "Please don't struggle and scream too much. I have to concentrate."

Sylvester Harris was about to question what she meant when she leaped forward and assaulted him with the knife. He put up a good fight, put with no defence and the body of an arthritic aged man, he didn't last long.

And no one heard his screams.

**YAY FOR DARKNESS!**

**Sorry the extra bit was dark, but the plots shifting gears. **

**The birthday was mushy, I know, and a tad cliché, but birthdays always are. Sorry.**

**Reviews are great, thanks for your opinions. Suggestions and improvements are always nice, and all comments are welcome.**

**Sorry it seems a bit slapdash, but I was rushed a little. If I've missed things out or got things wrong, just tell me and I'll correct it.**

**Thanks – K9**


	15. Attack

**Like last time, here are the responses to your reviews:**

**Nikki the spy: Mr Riddle is indeed an enigmatic character. Read this chapter and see what you think… you might like :D**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: 10,000 words long indeed; just as nearly as this one would be. Enjoy the chapter! A lot is happening in this one too.**

**Fanfictionaddict1: I hope this chapter is up to your expectations! :3**

**Albany: Graicas! Agreed; Omega is the worst Alex has faced to date. They simply show no boundaries with themselves. They will obviously stop at nothing for their cause!**

**To all those who review: thank you for these! Your comments are great.**

**To all those not reviewing: shame on you! All you have to do is write a little sentence telling me whether you liked it or not. The guys above this text managed to do so… why can't you :'(**

Tom's snoring had kept Alex up most of the night, but that wasn't what was bothering him this morning. Both Ben and Tom had noticed his sour mood, but neither said anything in fear of how Alex might react. The former spy was brooding over the events of yesterday, of Mr Riddle and his threat. Alex couldn't help but have a sinking feeling in his stomach that something bad was going to happen, a feeling that had kicked in late last night when the two teens should have been sleeping. He remembered the conversation he had with Tom,

"_Alex, you okay?" There was a pause as the spy thought about what he should say. He hesitated in the dark, mouth opening before closing again as he rethought his next move,_

"_No…" he whispered after a while, "No, I'm not…"_

"_You want to talk about?" Tom asked acting concerned about his friend's well-being._

"_I can't…"_

"_MI6 stuff? Classified, right?_"

"_Sort of… What would you do if someone threatened you with Mel's life?" It was risky, but Alex hoped Tom would take the hint, "And then asked about where Garfield would be that night?" _

"_I dunno… I guess I would tell them what they want," Tom unfortunately didn't catch on, probably assuming it was a joke or hypothetical situation, "Why do you ask?" _

_In the pale moonlight, Alex cringed. He couldn't tell Tom the truth. Ella was in danger, and spilling his guts out to Tom wasn't the best idea. In all fairness, Tom couldn't help him much, he should have been better off telling Snake, or Ben or Blue. _

"_No reason!" Alex lied, putting on a false smile to appease Tom._

Tom now wondered whether that conversation had actually meant something, but Alex wasn't talking. He had a dark look on his face, and glared at anyone who spoke to him. The older teen put it down to Alex just waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but he too had a terrible feeling about today. It didn't help at all that there was a summer shower, and it was absolutely pouring it down with heavy rain.

A bolt of thunder struck, making Alex jump a little. He had never liked thunderstorms; they set him on edge and always had a tendency to ruin a perfectly good day. Couple that with the tension that had set in around Alex and it made for a miserable atmosphere; breakfast seemed so dreary with no one really talking.

Even on the ride to school, Alex kept thinking Mr Riddle. The man had turned up sometime over the course of Alex's most recent absence, from when he went to America. He hadn't quite worked out the details from fellow students, but from what he had gathered so far was that there had been mix around with Ofsted, just after a supposedly bad report. Staff had just upped and left, not continuing until the end of the full year, or term for that matter. Mr Riddle had come in to take over, running the school like a factory, selectively choosing new teachers and employees himself, regardless of where the board went with their vote. It seemed that nothing could escape the new head master's critical eye, with him refurbishing nearly every room possible.

But the problem for Alex was that everyone loved him. He was the idealistic principal, someone who stood up for students and made the school a better place in their image. To the school's PTA (Parent-Teacher Association) he was a saint in a three piece suit. He raised funds, appeased the government and dealt well with teachers. He was a clever man, and Alex could hardly find anything to fault him.

Except for Ella's death threat and his curiosity over Tom's whereabouts.

The man had made it quite clear that he knew about Alex; he had spoken to Harold Bulman, a man Alex thought MI6 had long since buried under threats and allegations. Harold was probably the only person to date, not including Mr Riddle, who had approached Alex with his true identity. He didn't want to fuss, but he wouldn't hide behind his past. It wasn't something he was proud of, and if it came down to it, he would gladly come forward if it meant saving Ella's life. But to the teen, it seemed that Riddle had other plans. Instead of getting rich or confronting the truth, he had threatened Alex, under the simple excuse of finding out where Tom was. It didn't add up to Alex; he was missing something. The puzzle just didn't fit.

"Alex?" Tom said, bringing Alex out of his haze, "We have to go now…" The car had stopped, outside of Brooklands. Ben was looking at the younger spy with a bemuse look, and Alex blushed as he realised he had been sitting there for a few seconds whilst they had waited for him to move. He shot out of the car, not wanting to fall under Ben's inspection. Mr Riddle might be watching, and Alex didn't want to give the man any excuse to hurt Ella (How he didn't know, but he didn't want to find out).

The two teens were walking down the corridor to registration, when the devil himself approached them,

"Good morning, boys. Sleep well?" Mr Riddle asked, hands clasped in front of him in mock-interest,

"Yes sir!" Tom replied eagerly. Alex knew that the teen had respect for the head teacher, as the man had numerously helped Tom out of tricky situations.

"Like a dead weight, _sir_," Alex answered bitterly, scowling at the wretched man.

"Splendid!" he exclaimed, unfazed by Alex's hostility, "I hope to see you boys in assembly! Off you go now," he shooed them off, striding down the corridor in long purposeful steps. Tom turned to Alex,

"We should go! It might be interesting!" Alex was about to tell him that he would never in any shape or form have anything to do with the ma as long as he lived, but something stopped him. He might be able to figure something out about the man and use it to his advantage. It was a long shot, but it might just work in Alex's favour,

"Sure, why not," he said blankly, whilst a plan formed in his head.

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"Good Morning, Brooklands!" Mr Riddle bellowed, cupping his hand to his ear, expecting a jubilant response,

"Good morning, Mr Riddle," Alex snorted; the school sounded like they were still toddlers,

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you…" he leaned out to the congregated classes from his position on the stage,

"GOOD MORNING, MR RIDDLE," they yelled back. Alex could've compared them to a cheap children's TV show and found no difference.

"Well, that's got you wide awake then. With the exams out of the way, what are you going to do now? Not to worry, lessons await your beckoning call. Keep up your good work, and I'm sure we won't have a problem! But I suppose," Mr Riddle paused for effect, "That you're all wondering what today's assembly will be about, eh? Well, it's the theme of _secrets_."

There were a few murmurs of pupils mumbling to their neighbours, but they all failed to notice Alex and Garfield visibly stiffen in their seats. Had Blue been threatened too? They glanced at each other uneasily, unsure of where this was going,

"I while back, I was talking to a friend of mine, who told me some pretty interesting stuff about a lad in particular. You don't know him… _that well_, but you've all certainly met him. Now, this lad thinks he can hide, but I tell you now that he can't. Because I've got eyes everywhere in this school and all of you know there's no escaping me." He fixed Alex with a stare, and there was another ripple of murmurs, worried tones and confused expressions.

"But sometimes, secrets are powerful things," The head teacher continued, rapidly changing the subject and keeping the eager interest of his pupils, "They can break hearts, ruin lives, even bring the mightiest of governments down to its knees. Some secrets are best being put out into the open; like my aversion to yoghurt, or Mr Donovan's secret admiration for me," the mathematics teacher sitting at the back of the stage with the other teachers tried protesting, but Mr Riddle continued regardless, "Those kind of secrets are harmless, and no one should have any fear of hiding them. But others, other secrets are best left untold. There are some people in this world that will do anything to protect their secrets." Another stare in Alex's direction, less subtle than the first, "So… if any would like to come clean and admit they threw toilet paper all over my car last night had better own up soon, or they will face more dire consequences once I check the camera footage."

So the assembly was supposed to bring out the culprit who pranked the head master. Alex looked around, seeing a few students shaking in fear. He wasn't surprised; the man exuded authority. He had dominated the entire assembly, having the school dote on his every word, ardent for more. It was sickening that a man like him could reduce an entire school into a bunch of naïve children. The weren't even trying to defend their dignity as Mr Riddle made them call out a morning greeting to him in a silly manner. Alex had learnt nothing about the man, apart from the fact that he was arrogant, and held nothing back against his relentless mental assault on Alex.

But the young spy had learnt something new about the situation he was in; cameras. Mr Riddle could be watching at any moment during school time. Alex turned his head a little to the left, looking up in the corner of the ceiling. A small black dome sat there accusingly, the camera's view obscured by the veil of plastic.

"_I've got eyes everywhere in this school…"_

Alex shuddered, the horrible thought that this self-righteous man had the school trapped under his thumb. The whole school was quiet as Miss Critter flitted up onto the stage, handing Mr Riddle a note, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, and she fled, returning back to her post. Whatever it was, it must've been important, as the receptionist hardly ever left her desk. It was like it was her second home.

"Could Tom Harris please wait behind after assembly? As for the rest of you, get to class." Mr Riddle concluded abruptly, his voice grave. What did he want Tom for? And that tone; where had he heard it before? It sounded familiar… then Alex remembered;

Funeral voices.

He glanced to Tom, he too confused by the teacher's request of his presence, but the school began filing out, and Alex had no choice but to leave his friend. Quickly, whilst the bustling crowd was thick around them, Alex pressed a pair of spectacles Smithers had given him into Tom's hands,

"Wear these, and don't let him take them off you," Alex hissed urgently, before he joined the throng of people. He didn't trust the head master, and so did Garfield it would seem, who looked at Alex warily. They both didn't want their friend to fall into the hands of someone who had so blatantly accused them of hidings secrets without some protection or help.

Garfield stuck around for a little bit longer, gesturing for Tom to put them on before he went and joined the girls stuck in the queue.

Shrugging, Tom slipped the glasses over his eyes, and stood up to go see Mr Riddle.

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Alex couldn't concentrate, his mind kept thinking about Tom, and Ella, and the whole mess that he was in. It wasn't fair that he kept having the fate of the world and everyone else's lives thrust upon his shoulders. What did he ever do to deserve all _this_?

The clock ticked by mockingly, as Alex felt any hope drain from his body. He was fighting too many battles, half of which weren't even his to fight. It was MI6's fault for manipulating him into a spy, and now he was being held against the identity they had crafted for him with Ella's life endangered. It really should be them taking the blame for this, and dealing with it themselves. But he couldn't go to them, he couldn't tell anyone about Mr Riddle, not even his best friends…

He sighed, rubbing his eyes as the mathematically equations in front of him blur and rearrange themselves. His head ached terribly, and the pounding at his forehead reminded him of when he had gotten poisoned. He hadn't got poisoned again, had he? Alex shook his head to clear his thoughts; he was just being paranoid now.

Yet still his mind was drawn to Tom and Mr Riddle. Why had he used that tone for Tom? He looked out through the window, watching as the sleet pattered against the window pane, mimicking the teen's mood, and the head master's voice. He felt a vibration against his leg, and he would've ignored it had it not got any louder and more powerful. Reaching down into his bag, Alex pulled out the accused pair of glasses that tingled at his fingertips upon his touch. Seeing now other option, he placed them over his head,

"_Rider-boy, you there?" _Alex heard seemingly inside his head. It wasn't but the sound was coming from both the handles, giving the illusion that the voice was talking directly to him,

"Um… yeah?" he whispered, remembering how Smithers told him the microphone was extremely sensitive,

"_Good. Has Tom come back to class yet?"_ Garfield hissed urgently down the line. Alex could hear thumping in the background, but he couldn't tell what it was,

"No." he glanced at the patronising clock on the wall, noticing it had been over half and hour ago since assembly. Tom couldn't have been gone for that long could he? He heard a profanity nearly yelled down the line, and he winced as the speaker fizzled a bit,

"_No! I just got a message from Mr Silver. There have been two more Omega attacks, a man and a woman. Middle aged and found slaughtered with a knife, and a message yet again inscribed in blood: 'We'll be waiting __Ω__'. Want to know their names? Sylvester and Rachael Harris… Tom's parents."_

Alex froze, dropping the pencil hat was lazily held in between his fingers. No. This couldn't be happening. NO! He felt sick, bile rising slightly in his throat. Why? Why couldn't they just leave his friends alone?

"So what?" Alex hissed tears stinging his eyes, "Just more lives I failed to protect."

"_And there's going to be one more to add to that list if you don't listen. Surely you've figure it out by now!" _Garfield was met by silence, _"Tom's just been told his parents are dead; it's the logical answer. But think about it. After an assembly so blatantly directed at us, it got me thinking. Omega somehow infiltrated the school, and now Tom's parents are dead. Mr Hatchet and his sister were already found out, but we just assumed that'd be it, no more Omega in Brooklands. But what if it wasn't? Mr Riddle threatened you, I know, I heard through the mike on your spectacles. Sensitive, remember? But Ella's life was in danger, so I took the liberty of increasing her protection very subtly and not mentioning it. She's safe, I assure you, but Tom isn't. What Riddle said directly links him with Omega. He's got cameras everywhere, watching us, he asked about where Tom would be the night before, Omega have already tried an attack on you, but when that failed, they would have no alternative to resort to other than blackmail. It was all a ruse to get us into a position where we couldn't fight back, unlike before."_

The door burst open, Garfield standing there panting heavily,

"Mr Viking, is something the matter?" Mr Donovan exclaimed, unhappy about the rude interruption. Without missing a beat, Garfield answered,

"Mr Riddle would like to see Alex, please." The maths teacher huffed, but motioned for Alex to go. The teen practically hurled himself from his seat, dashing out the door with the technician,

"We have to act fast. He could be anywhere by now. He hasn't left the school grounds; we have the place being watched. I tried contacting Tom earlier, but to no avail," Garfield explained as they ran together through the halls, "Omega are getting more aggressive, their lashing out at you in all directions."

"But he seemed to be an amateur; like he didn't know what he was doing," Alex argued as they rounded a corner, "How can you be sure he's Omega?"

"It was to lead you on Alex! We're now in a position where we are powerless to stop him, but we can damn well try. Omega has infiltrated the school, but we never asked how. We know that Omega can manipulate their circumstances to suit them, so all they had to do was give the school a bad report for Ofsted and then swap in our operative Mr Riddle and then he can start introducing more agents into the school. It makes sense. I know it' just a theory, but I have a bad feeling about this."

Bad feeling; that was what Alex had had this morning, like something dark was afoot. Two secret agents can't be wrong, surely? Alex glanced over at Garfield, who had a look of steely determination set on his face. He couldn't blame him; Tom and he had become good friends, the two of them having stuff in common. Between the three of the male teens, they'd formed a sort of pact, if you will. They were like brothers, Alex having known Tom since they were young and Garfield for trusting and relating to Tom and Alex. And it was the technician's investigation behind Omega; this for him was like a stab in the back, like he'd missed some important detail.

Alex increased his speed as they reached the administration corridor. Garfield hung back, the other teen unsure why, until he ran headlong into Miss Critter. She didn't even flinch as Alex ploughed into her, and instead was pushed back by the rebound, falling indignantly onto his behind,

"You should be more careful, Alex Rider," she hissed, her stance defensive and wide. She was blocking the way into the admin corridor, and from what Alex could see there was no way past.

"I just need to go to the office, miss," Alex tried unsuccessfully to lead the receptionist astray,

"Do you think I'm an idiot, boy? Who do you take me for?" she took slow, purposeful steps towards Alex, fist clenching and unclenching, "I should have deal with you a long time ago, when you were still so innocent. Not to worry, though; I can fulfil my purpose now." Alex staggered to his feet, edging away from the oncoming woman.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Garfield hiding behind the corner, pulling what looked to be a heavy book from his bag. He also took out a water bottle, and Alex was about to question what the hell he was doing at a time like this when he began unscrewing the lid of bottle and pulled out a sleek black cylinder. The spy recognised the crude shape of a suppressor, a tool designed for quiet and stealthy kills. He tried not to stare as the technician then proceeded to take out a pistol from inside the pages of the book. All the while, Miss Critter kept advancing as Garfield hastily screwed the cylinder on to the HK USP Tactical.

"_Fire extinguisher,"_ Garfield whispered in his ear through the glasses gadget, _"Get ready to get the fire extinguisher,"_

He finished, holding the gun behind his back just as the receptionist came into view,

"Ah, Garfield Viking, how nice of you to join us," she said, in a sweet sickly voice, "I do like it when my purpose is easy." Garfield just smiled, before pulling the gun from behind his back, aiming at her forehead and then firing. Miss Critter had barely any time to look surprised as her body went limp and slumped to the floor.

"FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" Garfield practically screeched at Alex, just as the body of Miss Critter burst into flames. The spy grabbed the nearest one, ripped the pin out and began hosing her down with foam. Once he was certain, he stopped, breathing heavily from the adrenaline,

"I thought you said you couldn't fight?" he asked, prodding the charred remains of the receptionist,

"I can't," Garfield said, squatting down on his haunches and inspecting the corpse, "But that doesn't mean I can't shoot a gun."

"You killed her," Alex said, disbelievingly, "You shot her in the head."

"Yes, but she would have burned herself anyway. She was Omega, probably just like every other teacher and staff member in this school." Garfield stated simply, unfazed by his murder.

"Why do you get a gun?"

"Because I demanded for one; only form of protection I'm ever going to get."

"So you kill people often?" Alex interrogated, unhappy that someone the same age as hi was treating the situation so calmly,

"I kill because I have to, not because I want to. Emotional barriers only slow me down. Get rid f your morals and life becomes so much easier."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I should think the answer was obvious?" Garfield replied cryptically, before sighing, cutting Alex off from any further questions, "We should get going; before it's too late for Tom as well."

Alex nodded still seething at Garfield's lack of morality. How could he be so innocent, having just shot a woman moments ago? He had taken him weeks to come to terms with Julius Grief's death, and here was a teenager was just the same as him acting like it was a walk In the park! He let the subject drop, and instead moved on to something else,

"You got another one of those?"

"I thought you didn't like me killing people, yet you yourself want a gun?" Garfield retorted, one eye brow raised,

"Not for killing, just in case I need it."

"Weapons are never 'just in case'." Garfield said, reaching back into his bag, pulling out a replica model of the gun he was holding, minus the suppressor. He sighed, handing the gun to Alex. The spy checked the pistol over, pulling out the cartridge to see how much ammunition he had left. His stock taking was quickly interrupted, however, by a murmuring of voices coming down the corridor,

"Take the boy to the van. We'll have to deal with him later."

They both looked down the administration corridor to see Mr Riddle staring at them, his eyes blood-shot and angry. Tom was slumped over someone's shoulders, looking rather like a rag doll, as he was hauled away. The man was huge; Alex recognised him as the school's janitor. Mr Riddle pivoted on his heel and began striding away,

"Stop right there!" Garfield shouted, raising the gun to aim and fire, but the head master was already round the corner and out of sight before he could carry out any threat. Alex broke off after him, tearing along the corridor.

However, the spy hesitated slightly when Garfield didn't follow, and instead backed up in the other direction, heading back to classes.

"What are you doing?" Alex hissed, still running down the corridor in pursuit, "We have to save Tom!"

"_Yes, and we have to protect Ella," _came the curt reply, _"This is an attack on Omega, _finally_, and Ella's caught at the heart of it. I would bet a teacher will try and get at her; I'll get Ella, you get Tom. Deal?"_ Alex sighed,

"Deal…"

Alex carried on after Tom and his captors. He would not let any of his friends be hurt anymore by Omega. Ahead of him, he saw a door that lead to outside close briefly. He hurtled towards it, slamming it open as he barged through, pistol in hand.

A fist rushed towards him, connecting with his jaw. Alex was sent stumbling backwards, having no purchase on the floor, the gun flying from his hand and clattering beside him. For the second time he fell sprawling to the ground, the huge thug that had been carrying Tom looming over him. The janitor grimaced, half his teeth missing as he cracked his knuckles, expectant of a fight. Where was Tom? Alex needed to find him and he couldn't be slowed down now.

Garfield's words echoed in his head: _"She would have burned herself anyway…"_

He was right; they were all dead, regardless of whether they were walking and talking or burning alive. Alex grasped for the gun before the oath could lunge forward, the spy aimed and shot the man at point blank range several times until he staggered back outside. A pained expression swept over his face as he slowly bled, but the expression grew into a sinister smile as his body began to burn. It was slow at first, and Alex pushed him aside just as the flames consumed his body, leaving no trace. It was as if the man had never existed, turned to dust.

Mr Riddle was pulling Tom along, who had awoken during the minute time frame. His struggles and more youthful strength meant that their head master was finding it a difficult task to keep Tom pinned down,

"Let him go!" Alex shouted over the roar of flames behind him, "Let him go now!"

"Or else what?" Mr Riddle sneered, "You are a pathetic weak boy, who is howling out in a dark world. No one can help you, you are at our mercy. Omega is supreme! We are invincible! It would seem we are at a stalemate, Rider; shoot me and your friend, your _best friend_ will burn with me. Let me go, and he might just live. What will it be Rider? Me… or him?"

Alex's hold on the gun faltered. He was right; if he shot Mr Riddle, then he would burn himself regardless. But he couldn't let them take Tom. His friend was looking at him, Mr Riddle's arm pressed tightly around his neck in a headlock. The look in his eyes was pleading, but determined. But he gave Alex hope

Tom winked at Alex. The spy smirked slightly, the corner of his lips tugging into a tiny smile. The brought the pistol back up, just as Tom brought his elbow down into Mr Riddle's abdomen, possibly slightly lower.

Mr Riddle grunted in pain and surprise, the air evacuating his lungs as the teen rammed the joint into his crotch. Tom broke off the grip, which had slackened incredibly from the sudden trauma, and hurled himself away from the Omega operative. Mr Riddle recovered quickly, while Alex was fretting over Tom he limped his way to the awaiting van that would have been used to transport Tom when he was held hostage.

Alex noticed, just as the van began to pull away. He raised the gun again, not wanting Mr Riddle to escape, but an explosion coming from behind him made him stop dead in his tracks and whirl around.

Garfield, Ella and Mel were running away from the blast, the licks of flames curling around the building like a menacing monster. From inside, Alex heard the shouts of students and teachers, as well as the siren of the fire alarm. The trio ran up to them, panting,

"We have… to… to get out of here," Mel said, hand son her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

"They're coming Alex," Garfield explained, "We have to get to safety. That unit of ours should be around here somewhere; I'm appalled they haven't acted already." He snorted, nodding his head in Tom's direction, acknowledging his safety. It wasn't moments after Garfield had said that when students and teachers began piling out of the school and onto the school concrete yard. Some people were even beginning to notice the random group of five teens separate from the rest of them. Some even noticed the weapons…

"Whatever we're going to do, I suggest we do it now!" Ella said, moving her body so that Alex's gun was concealed behind her back,

"You're the advisor," Alex said turning around to face Garfield, "and it's your investigation, so start advising and get us out of this mess!"

Just as Alex said that, two cars came screeching down the road, careening to a halt just near the teens. The cars were nondescript, both sports cars. The windows were tinted, and Alex had to struggle to see inside.

"An Aston Martin Rapide! And a Rolls Royce Phantom!" Tom squealed, clapping his hands excitedly, regardless of whether the drivers were friendly or not. Everyone turned to look at him bewildered, "What? Top Gear's a great show…"

The cars engines were still running when the drivers' doors opened. The teens gasped, just as John Crawley and Lion poked their heads out,

"Get in will you!" Lion shouted at the teens, "NOW!"

"You have got to be kidding me?" Alex asked incredulously as he opened the passenger door of Crawley's car, claiming shotgun, "This is absurd; talk about being inconspicuous. I feel like bloody James Bond"

"Please do not fantasise about that man, he is nothing more than a fictitious creation. _This_, is the real deal, as you youths would put it," Crawley retorted, checking to see that the others were getting in as well. Garfield and Ella clambered into John's car, whilst Tom and Mel for Lion's Rolls Royce.

"So James Bond didn't exist then? He was just some man's random imagination?" Alex asked, bemused that the MI6 agent would have such a defensive comeback. He watched the man stiffen slightly, hands clasped around the wheel,

"James bond was based on one of our agents… an agent _Stephen James._ The surname became the first name, and the 'Bond' surname came from the Royal and General… as in banking _bond_…"

"You're joking, James Bond was technically real!" Ella exclaimed for the back, "And that his name was _Stephen James_? I think I love the secret service!" she giggled, prodding Alex In the shoulder at the idea of a James Bond actually existing.

Alex gave her a weary smile back from the front, but he couldn't help but let his eyes be drawn to the disappearing ruins of Brooklands.

Omega had gotten to him once again, this time taking out his best friend's parents, and his school.

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The two cars sped through the city streets of London. Strangely, it seemed like traffic had been blocked, and no Police were giving chase either. The roads were barren and empty. Alex had questioned this, only to get the terse response from Garfield that since Omega was such a threat and that it involved both secret services, they had pretty much complete power over the entire city, if they so desired. It had left Alex wondering just how much power they had over its people, but his thoughts were sent askew as the cars pulled up outside Houses of Parliament,

"What are we doing here?" Ella asked, just as the windows grew much darker, turning a bold black. Alex turned to look at John,

"Same technology as in Mrs Jones's office I'm guessing?" he said, gesturing to the windows which now obscured their vision, even through the front windscreen. Crawley put on a pair of sunglasses, which in turn reminded Alex that he too wore spectacles; another of Smithers gadgets perhaps? He mimicked John's actions as the man reached up and pressed against the side of one lens. It startled Alex when suddenly the glasses fogged over, allowing him to see out of the car as it pulled around the entrance and into some kind of lift. Lion drove up alongside them, and Alex saw the doors behind them close, shutting out the rest of the world,

"What's going on?" Ella asked confused, "What's happening?"

Nobody answered her as the whole rom gave a sudden jolt, before Alex could feel much greater vibrations. The car's engine was still running, just mildly ticking over, but the whole room they seemed to be in was rattling and lights flicked by on one side. The teen spy concluded that, either the lights were simple trickery, or that they were in a lift, heading downwards naturally; but to where?

Just as the question posed itself, the lift jarred to a halt, the door behind them opening again into a large and desolate garage. John and Lion pulled out at the same time, and parked up alongside some men and women in lab coats. These technicians immediately scurried over, inspecting the tyres, the doors and windows of the cars before barely any of their occupants could get out. Crawley was buffeted out of the way by a particularly keen woman with huge goggles on, who leant inside, tapping at various parts of the dashboard and compute display. Alex could see that they were doing the same to Lion's vehicle, just as Tom and Mel were getting out.

"Agent Rider-"

"_Ex-_agent Rider, to you," Alex interrupted coldly. Crawley didn't seem bothered by the teen's sudden frostiness,

"Mr Rider," he said, altering the title he gave to the teen, "Mrs Jones would like to see you in the Clock-tower immediately. Your friends will be looked after, I assure you."

"Tom comes with me, though. I have some stuff I need to sort out." Alex snapped, gesturing to Tom. Crawley glanced over Alex's shoulder at the congregation of teens, nodding his head,

"Of course, certainly."

A few technicians came over to the teens, pulling them away from the cars and herding them towards a door set in one far side of the wall. A man in a slightly burnt white coat brought Tom over to Crawley, Alex, Garfield and Lion. He looked at Alex puzzled, but the teen just shrugged, heading off with the other agents and soldier.

They were led to a set of elevator doors, which Alex assumed to be the only way of travelling in this place. The doors slid open, and the five of them stepped inside. Tom stepped in next to Alex,

"You okay?" the former spy asked, nudging Tom's elbow, "You've just been through a lot, and your parents are…" he trailed off leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. Tom just sighed,

"I'm fine, really. My parents' being dead isn't so much of a big deal, and I don't blame you at all. In a sick way, it's actually helped me get rid of their burdens and troubles. I guess… I guess I'll just cope, probably go live with my brother if he'll stop being such a jerk, or I dunno, go find a place of my own. I'm sixteen, right? So I'll get a job, I haven't really got much going for me at school anyway, apart from sports. But let's be serious – ironic coming from me – sports won't exactly get me very far in the workplace. I'll manage, Alex. I always do…" he gave Alex a soft look, though to the teen it looked more like tom was defeated. Tom had nothing now… his brother has turned him away once already, no relatives other than Jerry and now no education. His life was ruined, and it was all Omegas' fault.

The adults remained silent, Lion occasionally glancing down at the teen when he thought no one was looking, but Alex noticed, and he was pretty sure Garfield noticed too, but neither brought it up. Crawley, however, was just a calculated and blank as ever, no emotions straying across his face at all. Alex wondered for a moment whether or not the man still had a soul to be working with children and not have any opinion or qualm over it.

The lift they were in drew to a stop, and the doors once again opened out onto a huge room, with gears and shafts running through the centre of each wall. Alex could see from how the light shone through what he had originally thought were windows to actually be giant clock faces. He made the connections quick, between the Houses of Parliament, and the title 'Clock-tower',

"We're _inside_ Big Ben?" he inquired, shocked at the sheer size of the secret service's reach. They couldn't have set up a laboratory inside ne of London's most iconic clocks?

"No," Garfield said as he pulled off his bag, setting it on a counter and began typing at a nearby computer, "Big Ben is the name of the bell. We're inside the tower. Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the Clock-tower!" he gestured grandly to the huge room, metal floors separated by spiralling staircases. Computer servers lined some of the walls, and Alex could see both up and down the tower, all the way to the bottom. Sections of the floor were made of transparent Perspex, and looking down he could see yet more floors, bustling with men and women busy with a variety of tasks. He could see one group fiddling with a laser, whilst a couple of women were firing a wide assortment of weapons at a dummy, taking notes after each shot.

The room he was standing in, then, must be some kind of main control room, being predominantly at the top of the tower. He was still admiring the level of construction and time that must have gone into such a project as this when tom interrupted his train of thought,

"But what about the _real_ clock then, the real Big Ben?" he asked, gazing around, "Because I've seen it on TV and the news and stuff. Where is all that then?"

"The public don't get to see the real thing, they get a copy in the basement below," Garfield answered, not looking up from his screen, "The lift goes down, not up, and we pay any individuals a large sum of money each year to keep quiet. Our enemies would never suspect our base of operations to be hidden in the most public and central part of the government; it makes the Clock-tower perfect for covert missions and testing." A lab-coat hurried up to Garfield, muttering something into his ear, handing him a file. The teen thanked the man, and headed over to Alex, "I just got this in; it's what keeps making our job difficult." He handed Alex a large A4 print out sheet of photographic paper, the glossy surface catching in the light. Alex examined the picture, of what seemed to be a large sphere, made entirely of hexagonal segments, some of which, according to the picture, were differently coloured. It was mostly a glaring gold, save for a few hexagons of neon green.

"What am I looking at?" Alex asked, finished with the picture, handing it back to Garfield,

"That is what we're calling an Incendiary Particle. It's what Omega use to set themselves on fire. The instant the body registers harm to the person or that they wish to kill themselves, the nanoparticles activate and immediately combust. There's thousands inside each operative," the technician explained, handing the image to Crawley, who took one look and strode off, "The technology is very similar to Invisible Sword, and it's near impossible to try and collect a sample. This is only a digital rendition of particles we've managed to salvage."

Alex had to laugh at the ingenuity; Omega had complete disregard for life, so much so they would put such a great risk upon themselves. In the end, do they all just burn, or is Omega a one way ticket to Hell? Yet again, as well, Scorpia made a mention. It seemed strange to Alex that Omega would just so easily walk in after they had crumbled to dust and claim everything that they own. Would that include the Snakehead? Or their assassins? Just how big is Omega?

"Alex Rider!" A voice boomed out over the large expanse of the room. Mr Silver stepped out into sight, high above the group. Mrs Jones was beside him, a look of utter distaste apparent on her features, even from such a height, "Terribly sorry about your school. Terribly sorry about your friend there too, might I add."

They descended the flight of stairs to their level. Alex saw that Mr Silver was dressed in exactly the same tuxedo as when he had met the man before. Either that or the man had many suits just as similar. Mrs Jones was sucking on yet another of her peppermints, and she nodded curtly in Alex's direction,

"We believe you have run into recent trouble with Omega. Once at the London Eye and again today at Brookland Comprehensive School, correct? Then why, might I ask, is Tom Harris here?"

"Tom's parents, ma'am," Garfield began, still transfixed with his computer, "were murdered last night at around two o'clock in the morning by Omega operatives; same messaging style, slightly different messages."

Mrs Jones paused, a tense moment of silence hanging in the air,

"Well?" she snapped, glaring at Mr Silver, then at Garfield and Alex, "What do you want me to do? They're dead; not much I can do to help them-" Alex spoke over her, rather angrily,

"_You_ said that until Omega makes their move, then I – _we_ – have no alternative but to wait. And I've waited, and now they're making their moves. So do something… ANYTHING! You've just let them waltz all over me; they've already killed Sabina's parents, poisoned me, attacked me and Ella nearly killing us and now they've gone and killed Tom's parents along with blowing up the school! Is that not enough to go on?" he shouted, his voice increasing in volume as he ranted at the head of MI6.

"Alex, I-" she started, but Garfield cut her off, spinning to face Alex,

"Wait… go over that one more time."

"Go over what?" Tom asked, puzzled. Garfield sighed,

"That list; go over it again…" Alex passed a confused look between him and Tom, but repeated his earlier statement, gong over the list of what Omega as done to him. When he finished, Garfield began rapidly typing at the keyboard in front of him. He was muttering to himself, but Mrs Jones and Mr Silver decided not to pay any attention to he estranged technician,

"Alex, we are very sorry for what happened, but we can't do much in our position," she explained in sympathetic tone that lacked just a little emotion. Alex shook his head,

"Yes there is. For a start, I want Tom put in protection. He can stay with me and Ben; he has a spare room upstairs that can be converted, and we have an inflatable mattress," Alex urged in a rather demanding tone. Mr Silver huffed,

"We cannot allow one agent to watch over and protect not one, but _two_ children who keep attracting trouble. Agent Daniels services would be stretched, and would hinder his effectiveness. I would allow for your friend here, Tom was it? I will allow him to be put under protection, but we are limited in our resources at the moment." Another reign of silence, but Garfield chipped in when he noticed no one talking,

"I believe Darren Walters, aka Lion, could look after Tom. He _was_ supposed to take over looking after Alex from Ben when I dismissed the order. Lion has served with both agencies before, and now resides with the SAS. He'd be suitable to protect and look after Tom."

Everyone turned to lion, who stood there numbly allowing the information to process. Garfield couldn't possibly be suggesting him now, could he?

"That would be an acceptable compromise," Mr Silver said, after a moment's deliberation, "Wouldn't you agree Jones?" She nodded,

"I concur, we shall make the arrangements immediately," she turned to the soldier, "We should prepare for Tom Harris's stay at your apartment."

"This isn't a request, is it?" Lion asked, taking tentative steps out onto the metaphorical ice. Mrs Jones simply smiled,

"This is an order, Private Walters." He sighed, resigning himself to his duty. An order was an order; he just hoped he could survive the insanity hat was… _is_ Tom Harris.

Tom glanced at Alex, and was about to say something when another thought struck Alex,

"I want to sign up again."

The entire room fell silent. Had they all heard him correctly? Had he just said he wanted to sign up again? Alex couldn't quite believe it himself, the words having only just left his mouth on impulse alone,

"Only temporary, mind you; I want to help and rid Omega as fast as possible so I or rather my friends and _I_, can return to normality as quickly as possible. I can help." Mr Silver clapped his hands together, while Mrs Jones looked shocked behind him,

"Fantastic! You can start whenever you're ready. We'll get you signed up on a temporary contract, get you kitted out and then briefed. Together we'll tackle this menace head on." The two heads began talking amongst themselves, Lion turning away with them, leaving Alex, Tom and Garfield to talk to one another in private, Crawley having slipped away at some point to attend to other matters. Tom turned to Alex,

"You don't have to, you know. Sign up, I mean, you don't have to. In fact, you shouldn't. Don't you remember what they did to you?" his friend rambled, trying to persuade Alex of his decision.

"I remember exactly what they did to me; that's why it's only temporary. I can't let them hurt you anymore. I can't let them hurt anyone close to me. I'm going to put a stop to this once and for all. They want a war then I'll give them war."

"That might not be such a great idea," Garfield said, picking up his bag from where he dumped it, "From what we've seen, Omega is very particular about how they go about things. We can hardly ever surprise them; this might be exactly what they want. You, back in the saddle as a spy could be fundamental to their plot." He headed over to the lifts, just as Mrs Jones called out,

"Where are you going now?"

"Back to my safe house, ma'am. I can't find the data I want on the agency's servers, so I'll have to go look at my personal server. I _think_ I may have just had a breakthrough!" Mrs Jones shot him a quizzical look, and he sighed, continuing further, "What Alex said, I think there's a connection between it all. I just have to cross reference a few bits to see if it all matches up. This could go back further than just the past week. I mean it could go back an entire year, or a lifetime. I think I've managed to crack Omega!"

Garfield dashed into the elevator before anyone cold question him further, the doors sliding shut. Adrenaline raced through Alex's veins; could he have found a link to it all, a clue to help them find Omega? He looked to Tom, who had the same confused but excited look on his face.

For Tom, the situation couldn't get any better. His parents, the banes of his life were gone, giving him the chance to be free of their clutches. He would have been happy becoming independent and getting a job, but Alex had offered him a lifeline. For a sort while, he could stay with Lion, continue his education, possibly up his grades and carry on as normal. It didn't seem so bad; all he had to do was appease to the soldier's mood and try not to get on his bad side and he could possibly stay even after Omega had gone! It was cheap, but tom had been living it rough for the past few months. To him, this was a reprieve.

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Ben picked up Alex a little later. The man had spoken briefly with Mrs Jones, more than likely about his reintegration into an MI6 agent status. The ride back had been quiet, but the tension was suffocating Alex. The man looked furious; his blank face actually petrified Alex more than anything at that moment. He simply couldn't predict Ben when he was like this. It was like looking at a whole other person.

Once they were home, Ben's cold exterior melted away, revealing the man's seething anger,

"You signed up _again_?" he bellowed at the unsuspecting teen, "Are you _insane_?"

"I wad doing it for my friends!" Alex shouted back, "Once Omega is gone, I quit; simple as that. Protect my friends, destroy Omega and get back to real life. Finished!"

Ben sighed, defeated. Alex had a point. The whole business with the criminal organisation had some how involved him, and Alex was the best at what he did. Having him helping along with the investigation would definitely speed up the process. But Ben didn't want Alex to risk himself; he wanted him to go to school, to do homework and go out with girls, not battling an underground war with a brutal and vindictive criminal mastermind.

"Why do is matter to you!" Alex complained, falling back onto the sofa in the living room, "It's my decision and has nothing to do with you."

"I just don't want to see you hurt!" Ben yelled, before taking a breath and continuing softly, "I don't want MI6 to take you back and abuse you like they did. I don't want to find you in some hospital bed because of some mad man's fanatical plan; you mean too much to me." He mumbled the last bit, not wanting Alex to hear him. Fortunately, he didn't,

"Look, Garfield's made a breakthrough. Once he finds whatever he's looking for, we can start making a plan of attack, and this mess will be cleared up and forgotten about n no time."

Ben reluctantly nodded, before asking what Alex wanted to eat. The teen replied cheekily, much to Ben's displeasure, the short but tense argument swept under the rug. It _was_ Alex's decision; Ben just hoped he hadn't made the wrong one.

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The small bedroom was illuminated by the single computer screen, as everything else was plunged into darkness. A server, shoved into one corner, beeped and whirred incessantly as it delivered its information to the computer Garfield sat at. In his eyes reflected were the streams of data and research he had accumulated over the past few months. Numbers and digits flying by, corresponding to blocks of data that coursed through the system,

"Where are you?" Garfield whispered to himself, aware that no one else was in the room. Not that they would want to be, the room was a tip. The floor was strewn with cables and wires, bookcases stood, leaning precariously as they were piled high with CDs and manuals. To one side there was a workbench, circuit boards and metal filaments scattered across the bare steel surface. The only neat thing about the room was the bed, which looked as though no one had slept in it at all. But that, in itself, was the truth; Garfield rarely ever used the bed. It was merely there as a reminder that even he was human, and like many other men and women, he too needed to rest and restore his energy. Sometimes, he would wake up in his chair, the computer groaning at having been left on so long and idle. Other times, he woke up at MI5, In the Clock-tower. It wasn't a case of where he felt comfortable sleeping, but where he could sleep whatsoever. A life on the streets does that to a person; Garfield had spent many nights as a child sleeping out in alleyways, or in doorways. You just found somewhere where you could stay the night which was relatively calm and safe. Often or not, Garfield just found himself nodding off whenever he wasn't being stimulated enough – which was pretty much always nowadays.

He rubbed his eyes, the first signs of drowsiness kicking in. He had been working for several hours flat; the explosion at the school and trouble with Omega had drained his system. But he had to find the data; it had to be somewhere. When Alex had told him the list, he made something click inside Garfield. He felt sorry for tom, but the technician couldn't allow for emotional barriers at the moment. He had to find the link. A pattern of number caught his attention. That most certainly had _not_ been on the MI5 server.

Garfield had many personal servers distributed all over the globe, a habit of his to always be prepared whatever the case. The servers of the secret agency were secure, but not to Omega. The technician kept his most private and important research locked away with his hard-drive. He used a special encryption key that he had designed himself. Some cryptologists had had a crack at it over the years, but it remained elusive to them.

"Everything going okay?" A voice called out from behind Garfield. He spun around, hand grabbing the pistol lying to the side. He aimed at the man in the doorway, but he breathed a sigh of relief when it only turned out to be an MI5 agent,

"What are you doing here, Agent Spencer?" he questioned irritably. Spencer held up his hands placating Garfield,

"Calm down, Mrs Jones just called; she wanted to know if you've found anything."

"Not yet… Wait, yes I have!" Garfield said triumphantly as the pattern of digits repeated themselves again, "I've got it! Tell Mrs Jones I'll be right there, and call Alex Rider. Get him there as well." The man nodded, about to exit through the doorway, but stopped, leaning in through the entrance,

"Just a quick question; you got a light?" Spencer asked, pulling a lone cigarette from his pocket and mimicking a real lighter. Garfield sighed, even more irritable at the man's lack of concern,

"Just do it, will you?"

The agent fled down the corridor; Garfield's apartment/safe house was kept hidden nearer to the suburbs of London. He was on the top floor, away from the residents below, so as to not be interrupted by them, or be caught off guard in conversation with one of them. He had to keep himself isolate after all.

Garfield plugged in a USB into his computer, downloading the relevant data for the heads of MI6 and MI5 to see. But just as he was doing that, he noticed something amiss. Only Mr Silver knew how and where to contact Garfield; only MI5 agents could liaison with the technician. Mrs Jones had no jurisdiction over MI5, and yet Agent Spencer had just said he received a call. Garfield's heart began to beat faster a she ran through scenarios.

If Omega had infiltrated MI6, it would logical to assume they have done the same with MI5. If that was the case, then Agent Spencer… words rang out in Garfield's head,

_You got a light?_

_Incendiary Particle… fire… immediately combust…_

_Explosion_

Then everything went blinding white.

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Alex was busy chewing away at some sushi that had been left over from Ben's birthday when the call came through. Ben had answered it, his voice turning grave and dull as soon as whoever on the other end began talking. There were a few mumbles responses before the older spy put the phone down, turning to Alex with a grim expression,

"They've got to him. Omega has caught up to Garfield."

**TA DA! Long chapter again… and late as usual! I'm sorry!**

**So yeah, your comments are much appreciated, reviews are even better. Still keeping with the action as well and I apologise in advance for some moments where I was rushed; I just wanted to upload this to you guys.**

**Also, I was kidding. I'm not forcing anyone to review. I just hope everyone likes the story.**

**Everything is going slowly, by the way. Redecorating is taking forever, and I keep getting dragged into it… I never even wanted it redecorated in the first place… :| **

**Anyhoo… **

**Thanks – K9**


	16. Tom

**Hurrah, another long chapter ¬_¬ ….. Very sleepy =.=**

**AND we're over half way through.**

**Warning: This is probably going to annoy a few of you, but if you don't controversial topics like the section marked + TRC:F + then ignore it and move on. Get it? Don't like = don't read. **

**In response to reviews:**

**Fanfictionaddict1: I'm glad you enjoyed it. This one is over 12,000 words long. Thanks for your review :3**

**ReillyScarecrowRock: Nicely noticed, but it will all be explained later on in the story. But thanks for pointing it out. I had actually forgotten that; what you said was true by the way ( X3 ). Thanks for the review.**

**Nikki the Spy: Cliff-hangers for the win! You don't like?... oh well, I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway. I'm sure things will work out for the best… (Hopefully MWHAHAHA) Thanks for reviewing.**

**Albany: Gracias! You're right, they have no respect for the living, and the story is getting more emotional depth as we go along. I hope you keep reading!**

**Scamp87: Thanks for your review, and I'll be sure to try my best!**

**Iamawsome: Sabina is an iffy point for me. I love your idea, but for the rest of the story she wasn't supposed to make a comeback until the next one. (Hint hint) I could **_**maybe **_**incorporate her, but it would be difficult. **

**So with thanks out the way, here's Chapter 16**

Garfield lay motionless on the hospital bed in St Dominic's. It was exactly the same room Alex had stayed in during his brief visit when he was brought back over the England. The same colours, the same smells; it was as if nothing had changed since he'd left. He had only just recently come out of surgery, bandages wrapped tightly around various parts of the teen's body as he just lay their, lifeless.

Alex and Ben had rushed over to the private hospital, Ben telling him what had happened on the way. From what the boy could gather Garfield had been caught up in an explosion at his safe house, bringing the entire building down. It was a miracle that he had survived the blast; simply looking at him lying there made Alex cringe. He imagined that this must have been the same feeling when he had been shot, and people were visiting him.

The incapacitated teen lay with numerous wires and tubes attached to him. Nurses and doctors milled about his bed as the small group of visitors waited outside. No one had been allowed in; Garfield's condition was critical. The state he had been found in, according to the disgruntled SAS solider – more commonly known as Wolf – was terrible. Alex had questioned the unit leader as to why he was visiting Garfield, but he had left it hanging, giving Alex a silent answer. Something was chipping away at the man from the inside, he could tell.

Alex could also see worry etched in the faces of the other visitors; mostly comprised of K-Unit. Tom had chosen to tag along as well with Lion. Apparently, the teen had only just managed to move all his belongings to the soldier's apartment when the call had come through about the explosion. Suffice to say, they arrived only a few second after Ben and Alex. Snake, being the unit's medic, was pacing backwards and forwards, wearing down a path in the floor. He was scathing; despite his medical expertise and qualifications (yes, Snake had qualifications. It had come as a shock to Alex) he wasn't allowed anywhere near Garfield. Like the rest of them, he had to wait for the all clear before he could be allowed to check over him. The wild look in his eyes prevented anyone from daring to approach the fuming medic.

Eagle had chatted like nothing had happened for a while, trying to lighten the mood. But Alex sensed worry laced in his voice, an undertone of concern for the teen. Alex had once dread to think about whether roles would be reversed when he had been shot in the heart, but it seemed fate had decided to single him out and make it just so. He hadn't been this on edge from when Ian had got back from missions, and that had been terrifying, wondering what state his uncle was in. But this…

This was indescribable. Omega had stooped to an all new low. And what's more, Garfield had been on the pinnacle of a revelation, about to unearth a potential clue, a lead perhaps, on the criminal organisation that seemed intent on destroying their lives as much as possible. Their actions seemed to go just beyond the normal boundaries of profit or revenge; it was verging on insanity. As though they were doing this just because, that it was all just for fun. That thought made Alex shiver slightly. How could mankind become so degenerate, so as to be able to produce monsters?

Mrs Jones had turned up a while later, just as Wolf had left to search out nearby stores or the possibility of a hospital café and gift shop,

"You have my upmost sympathies," she started, her voice monotonous, "It's a tragedy that this should arise now, of all times; a most inconvenient occurrence." Alex glared at her venomously,

"How can you act so formal when you've let everything go to shit?" he asked, surprising casual and calm. His tone took her aback somewhat,

"I'm not sure I understand…"

"My life is screwed, my friends' lives are screwed, and Omega is still running amok around the country… and yet here you are, hardly giving a damn. It's as though you don't care." Mrs Jones bristled at the comment, but decided upon ignoring Alex's verbal attack,

"We're working around the clock to provide as much protection as we can. This was… an _unfortunate _lapse in security," Alex snorted loudly, "and we are rectifying the situation. You must understand that this is as much a great loss to us as it is to you; Garfield was our leading agent behind the Omega investigation. Without him, we have very little to go on. He held most of his research fairly closely." She let this sink in to the fellow soldiers and teens surrounding her before carrying on, "_Agent_ Rider, Mr Harris, I must regretfully inform you that you will not be attending Brookland Comprehensive School for the near future," Tom was making to interrupt, but Lion put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head, "The majority of the staff have mysteriously disappeared, and we assume it more than likely that they were Omega cohorts. The few that remain are miniscule amount, and without a far more important head master, the school will have to be closed temporarily until staff can be accumulated. That, and the structural damage administered to the school will need to be first repaired, and then classrooms rebuilt."

"So no school then," Alex conceded bitterly huffing his impatience, "Is that all?"

"No, actually," Mrs Jones turned to address Ben, "Agent Daniels, if I may, could I have a private word with Agent Rider here?" He growled at the word 'agent', but nodded his head reluctantly, allowing for the head of MI6 to lead Alex further down the hospital corridor and out of sight. Once Mrs Jones was sure no one could listen in, or eavesdrop, she began talking,

"Alex, I take it as my duty to hand over the leading role in the Omega investigation whilst Agent Viking is recovering from his trauma. You are, as you once were, the highest ranking agent, on par with Viking. It is only natural to assume you will take over his work until he returns to capable efficiency again,"

"Of course, because all you care about are results… and his name is _**Garfield**_," Alex snorted, unhappy at the woman's curt tone. She continued regardless,

"Viking's work is very important to us, and to the investigation. It is your responsibility to carry it on. We must hope that he recovers quickly so we can find out about the breakthrough of his. But for now, we must leave him be. I suggest you and K-Unit take your leave, and allow for the medical professionals to complete their work. It may be some time before he awakens." Alex was about to protest, when a nurse came round the corner, staring at something or one weirdly from the way she came as she went about her duties. Mrs Jones straightened herself up, before giving Alex a short goodbye, making her way out of the hospital.

"You can come out now, Wolf," Alex called out to the hiding SAS man from around the corridor. The man sheepishly stepped out, holding numerous coffee cups and a plastic bag full of random merchandise.

"How did you know I was there?" he asked warily. Alex just sighed,

"I heard the bag, your footsteps and your breathing. Plus the nurse gave it away. You do realise it's creepy to hide behind corners and listening in on people, don't you?" Wolf groaned,

"Okay, I admit it; I'm not the stealthiest man alive. But what was she on about? We can't leave Pup on his own; not after what happened to him! She didn't even mention anything about a guard detail!"

"Agreed," Alex said, looking down the way Mrs Jones had left, thinking over the conversations, "The stress must be getting to her; it would give Omega the chance to attack whilst he's open. They probably tried to take his life because of the information he knew. Someone needs to watch over him."

"I'll do it," Wolf blurted, rather too eagerly. Alex looked at him questioningly, "I'm the unit leader… It's my responsibility, and I owe him…"

"I think it's more than that, Wolf," Alex spoke softly, knowing how Wolf got when it came to dealing with emotions. The man just exhaled, visibly deflating,

"Is it that obvious?" he asked, just as gently. Alex nodded,

"You've bought a tonne of crap from the gift shop. You barely even know him, apart from the three weeks, yet you seem to be caring a great deal more about what happens to him than the rest of us. What's going on Wolf?" The SAS soldier grunted, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Thinking for a moment what to say,

"Do you remember how at Brecon Beacons, I was only treating you bad because I was annoyed we'd been put with a teen? Attack on masculinity and whatnot?" Alex nodded again, "Well, it wasn't just that… my sister, about a month or so before had a miscarriage. I had a lot of siblings, and they'd all had children in the past, but this kid was going to be my godson, which was kinda a big deal in our family. But, like I said, he died before birth, and it was heavy loss for all of us… even me."

"I'm sorry," Alex said automatically, "So you're saying you acted the way you did out of jealousy? That I – a snobbish rich kid in your eyes – had lived while your godson died?" Alex probed, finally seeing some emotion from the man he though was just a solid rock of heartlessness. Wolf nodded sorrowfully,

"I got over it, but then Pup came back along and the memories came back. So I was back to being the bully; that was up until that argument we had a while back," he explained, still shuffling his weight around, "It kinda reminded me of what I _could _have had; a kid that looked up to me. I mean, I've always wanted to have kids of my own, y'know. But being army and stuff kinda puts a dampener on things. Natalie and I-"

"Who's Natalie?" Alex asked, interrupting. Wolf growled,

"My ex, now can I carry on?" the teen smirked, albeit rather sheepishly but gestured for Wolf that he indeed should continue, "Where was I? Oh, yeah, Natalie and I couldn't have kids; she wasn't able. Which I was fine with, but I would've liked one. A kid, I mean, just one so I could get a feel of what it's like to called 'Dad' and all that mushy stuff."

"Family is important to you?" Alex queried, amazed that Wolf had a soft side,

"It was big deal for my family. I have five biological uncles and three aunts, all of them married. Along with that, I had to compete with six other siblings; three brothers and sisters each. The idea of a close family was a long lasting tradition for us."

Alex was still deep in thought, reading the underlying lines,

"So you want to be a dad, I get it. But where does Garfield come into this?"

"I'm on the foster register, Cub; I could take him in…" Alex fell silent. He was sure his jaw had hit the floor when Wolf had said that .Was he serious?

"You mean… you want to _foster_ Garfield?" Alex asked bemused. Wolf growled a little again in irritation,

"Yes!" he snapped, his voice low, "And I'd be grateful if you mentioned this to nobody. _Really_ grateful," it amused the spy greatly. Wolf was almost pleading; it was a stark contrast to the gruff 'shoot-first-shoot-some-more-then-ask-questions-later' soldier Alex was used to. The niggling curiosity inside him wanted answers,

"Might I ask why?" Wolf glared at Alex, attempting to dissolve the teen's childish inquisitiveness. But Alex was used to the death-glares. He'd seen plenty in his time. Wolf sighed once more, defeated more so,

"He's an orphan, right? I want a kid to look after. So, two birds one stone; I foster him, he gets protection from Omega. I just… looking at him like that, it makes me sick that someone could do that to a child. Like your gunshot wound; it hurts me to see children in pain. MI5 and MI6 have obviously given up on him; they don't think he's going to survive the next twenty four hours, even though he got off lucky with his injuries. I think they know something that we don't."

Alex took in the details meticulously. He'd have to talk to Ben about Wolf's sudden disposition to children and family. And there was Alex thinking he was solely dedicated to his work. But, like Snake and his family, he had amazed Alex at his depth of belief into something he feels so strongly about. The conversation was virtually over, Wolf dismissing Alex, on the claim that the coffee was getting cold. He sent Alex a look as they walked back to Garfield's room, a clear sign that he shouldn't mention the discussion to anyone. The teen was tempted to put 'or else' on the end of that statement, but he dreaded to think about it.

When they arrived back, the rom had finally been open for visitors, with Snake taking the immediate pole position. He was scurrying around the bedbound teen, checking vitals and feeling limbs for breaks or fractures. He kept scowling every now and again, but no one dared interrupt the medic's system, afraid of the consequences. He finished, eventually, after about ten or so minutes, exhaling loudly as though to announce that he had concluded his medical examination. Wolf was the first to speak,

"Well?" he grunted, "he gonna be okay?"

"Hopefully, yes," everyone let out a sigh of relief, just as Snake picked up again, "I said _hopefully_… They surgeons have done the best they can from what I can see, but he's in a pretty bad shape. He's going to be comatose for a while as the body recovers from the severe trauma. After that, his wounds will have to heal over; that means the one over his chest, the gash down his leg, and the one that just missed his right eye, through his eyebrow. Other than that, he was fortunate. Lucky bugger managed to get away with a few scrapes and bruises but nothing else serious. What's odd though, Wolf is that you said that he had been injected with something?" the unit leader nodded in confirmation,

"There was bruising around his neck, a pinprick of blood there. I checked; he'd been given something. Why, is there a problem?" he asked, a little too worryingly. It looked as though the rest of the unit had noticed Wolf's concern too, but none of them mentioned it. Snake shook his head,

"No, it's just that it is noted down on his chart. And I checked the wound. There was nothing there. Not a scratch."

Wolf looked confused for a moment, before barging past the medic and over to Garfield's bed, gently rolling his head to the right to check for the elusive injury. The rest of K-Unit along with Tom filed in behind him, and Alex peered over Wolf's shoulder. Snake was right; there was no sign of the tell-tale red dot of an injection, and no bruising either, as if it had never existed in the first place,

"But it was right there!" Wolf exclaimed, pointing angrily at the unconscious teen's neck, "I swear, there was something there! You need to get them to run tests, if Omega has done this-" Ben cut in,

"We don't know for certain yet that Omega was behind this; it's just a theory at the moment. Mrs Jones would have told us; they usually deliver a message or a calling card. Something to let us know it was them. So far we've had nothing," Alex's mind cast back to the photograph and the slip of card that had been delivered to him. Why send a message to him then and not MI6? But MI6 knew it was Omega behind the London Eye attack, so why deny that the explosion was related? What was going on?

"But I saw-" Wolf stammered,

"It _was_ dark, Wolf, and you had just arrived at the scene of devastation with one of our unit members hurt. And we know how you get like when one of us is hurt, especially when that someone is a kid. Your mind can play tricks on you." Lion piped up, glancing over at Tom who was trying his best to stay awake and attentive given that it his friend could have been mortally wounded, but failing miserably. He yawned, unable to hold it back any longer. Lion sighed at the sorry sight of the teen, "Look, I would love nothing more than waiting around until Pup wakes up, but Tom's had a stressful day, and I think he needs to get some rest-"

"I can sleep on the floor! Or on the chairs! I don't mind, just imagine that I'm not here!" he chimed in, subtly opposing the notion of returning back to the man's apartment. He yawned again, considerably more than last time, blowing his argument out of the water,

"Like that's possible," Ben muttered, before increasing his volume, "I should take Alex back too. It's getting really late, and like Snake says, he's in a coma-like state. He won't be waking up anytime soon." Alex agreed, his own tiredness creeping in. The day had been nauseating and hectic, and he envisioned himself having yet another sleepless night worrying over everyone he cared for and was now endangered because of him. He sighed inwardly; some things just never changed.

"I should be going as well; I just left my wife hanging, and the kids don't know where I've gone. I really should get back to them. I'll come back tomorrow and check up on him." Snake explained, vowing to return the next day as he left quickly.

Ben turned to Wolf,

"Shouldn't someone stay with him; maybe you or Eagle?" Wolf shook his head,

"I'll stay," he grunted, lacking aggression however, "Someone needs to watch out for him after all." Ben agreed with the leader's plan, before he tugged at Alex's shoulders, leading him away, bidding them farewell until tomorrow. Lion looked to Eagle, who just stood there looing gormlessly at Garfield,

"Could you give me and Tom a lift?" Eagle looked up startled. He hadn't said a word since they'd been allowed in to see Garfield. The sight of a teenager in such an abysmal state must have had an effect on him,

"Sorry?" he said, before composing himself, "Oh, right. I can't really, I want to stay and-" Lion raised his eyebrows, gesturing with his head in Wolf's direction, who ha already drawn up a chair for himself by the teens bed and was pulling out products from the plastic bag. Eagle stuttered slightly, "Eh?"

"I said," Lion huffed; "_Could you give me and Tom a lift?_" he said with more emphasis, highlighting the fact that it was probably best to leave Wolf on his own, knowing full well about his protective and paternal instincts. Eagles began to catch on, but spoke a little less subtly than Lion,

"Yes!" he exclaimed, pretending it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Of course, we'll just be going now. So, if you need anything _Wolf_, we won't be here. Because we'll be gone. As in gone home." Wolf ignored him, instead opting to watch the rise and fall of Garfield's battered chest, the only minute sign that he was still alive, along with the heart monitor that beeped incessantly.

Eagle, Lion and Tom left Wolf to himself, gently closing he door with a click behind them, giving him some time and peace.

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The hospital room was filled with the sound of gentle snoring; Wolf had eventually but reluctantly dozed off, sitting in the same chair beside Garfield's bed. He had meant everything he had said to Alex; he really wanted to foster a kid, but with his career as an SAS soldier and a lack of support from his now ex-girlfriend resulted in him being put onto an emergency foster list about a year or so back. In essence, that meant he could only get a kid when there was absolutely nowhere else for the child to go. He could accommodate, but he'd so far never had the chance to act as a parent, something which all his siblings and other relatives reminded him about.

They were obsessed with him settling down, getting married and starting his own family. And in all honesty he would love to do that, but his job held him back. When he was deployed, the foster kid would have to be taken back into care, and he'd have to start all over again. A wife would mean that the child wouldn't need to be taken away, but Natalie had refused when Wolf had brought it up once, saying she didn't want some whining snotty little brat running riot around her house. Wolf had laughed at that as it wasn't even her home; she was just staying there whilst hers had been cleaned of pests. What had ensued was the biggest verbal sparring Wolf had ever been involved with in his life. He promptly dumped her, much to her displeasure, but he wasn't going to love someone who spoke about children in such a derogatory manner.

That was where Garfield came in. Wolf's parents, prior to his refresher course at Brecon Beacons, had encouraged him to take charge of his life properly, and to stop 'messing around with the military'. But with Omega, and the assignment of guarding Alex he had plenty of free time on his hands. Now, Garfield needed protection too in his weakened state; and Wolf wasn't sure he could cope with a toddler or a younger child. But he was a teenager, already clearly capable of handling himself. The scenario was perfect; he just hoped Garfield wouldn't reject his offer.

To know that Garfield had looked up to him during training had been an unexpected revelation about the mysterious teen. If he was a role model to Garfield, then maybe he might be more inclined to the prospect of fostering. It was a stab in the dark, but it was worth a shot. He was finally taking charge of himself, just like his parents had asked for, albeit under unusual circumstances.

Wolf snorted, and awoke suddenly as he sensed movement in the room. It was early morning, judging by the faint yellow peak of the sun. His hand snaked its way to his holster as he assessed the situation for threats, strangely on edge. His eyes flicked across the blandly decorated room, his gaze fixing upon the nurse standing at the door like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hair was tied behind her head plainly, but she looked rather beautiful to Wolf, with her lipstick and mascara. Her face was neatly formed, and her uniform looked great on her. Wolf realised suddenly that he had been staring at her for quite a while. He looked away, shocked at himself for being so rude,

"I'm sorry," she stammered, clutching the door handle uneasily, "I didn't realise you were sleeping… I could come back maybe another time?" Wolf sighed, rubbing his crusted eyes free of sleep,

"No, it's alright. I was waking up anyway," he lied, having been in a peaceful slumber debating his next moves in life. The nurse nodded quickly, hurrying over to the bedside where she began fiddling around with wires and tubes that linked up or went into Garfield's body. It made Wolf's stomach churn as she handled him like a doll, flicking the teen this way and that while he was left vulnerable. She meandered back across the room, and fished out a pair of keys from her pocket and unlocking a medicine cabinet that was secured to the wall. A few moments of rattling pill bottles and the clinking of glass later, she emerged with a small but elaborate tray of drugs, ready for her use.

Without asking Wolf, she passed between him and Garfield, blocking his view. All he could see were her hands working remarkably fast as she administered numerous dosages to the boy. Realising with the flurry of activity that he wasn't going to get any more sleep soon, he decided upon idle chitchat with the young woman,

"So, how is he doing?" he said, settling upon the topic of patient first. He had his priorities after all.

"He's doing fine, Mr…" she trailed off, expecting a name,

"Alvarez, Tristan Alvarez."

"He's doing fine Mr Alvarez, he just needs to make it through the night and I'm sure he'll make a full recovery," she paused what she was doing for a minute, leaning over the bed to glance at the chart, "Say, on here it says this patients name is Garfield _Viking_, not Alvarez. Visiting hours are closed now; only family members are allowed to stay. I'm afraid I'll-"

"It's okay, I'm _going_ to be family," Wolf said, the traces of a smile on his lips, "Besides, I'm here on governmental business, so surely that counts?" She thought for a moment, staring at Wolf intently before coming to a mental conclusion,

"I suppose so, Mr Alvarez. I really should clear it with a doctor, but for now you can stay." Wolf flashed a toothy grin at her, to which she blushed. She looked really cute when she blushed…

"Have you been working here long? I think I saw you in here earlier when he came out of surgery."

"Yes, about four years now. I've met some pretty extraordinary people, both celebrities and war heroes. We get a wide but refreshing variety of characters in here." She explained, about to administer an injection to the unconscious Garfield, "Though, to be honest, I haven't quite seen the likes of you around here." She began leaning over Garfield, pressing the syringe against his neck. Wolf shot up, grabbing her wrist,

"What are you doing?" he demanded. He was no medical expert, but he knew that you don't to inject like that unless in an emergency, "Aren't you supposed to use the IV drip?" She blushed again, more furiously than the last,

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed feigning stupidity, but there were false emotions behind it, Wolf could tell, "I should have realised. I must've got distracted by you dazzling smile!"

Now she was flirting with him! Something was wrong to Wolf, but he couldn't figure out what. She was going to inject something into him via the neck, and Wolf's claim that he had seen a bruise from where something had already been injected before came to mind. There was nothing there though, unless…

A young, beautiful nurse was flirting with him. But she was wearing make up. And she had been in here earlier when he wasn't allowed in.

He moved past her and over to Garfield, tilting his head gently, his fingers feeling along the artery. When he found what he was sure to be the spot where he had seen the wound, he rubbed a little with his fingertips, bringing them away slightly powdery,

"What are you doing?" the nurse asked, worry evident in her voice, "You can't do-" A well placed glare from Wolf silenced the nurse from protesting further, and he drew out a tissue from a box carelessly placed on the side. Dabbing it slightly, he began rubbing away the foundation and cosmetic powder to reveal the elusive bruise for the entire world to see. He heard the nurse snarl from above him, and he glanced up to see the nurse leaving.

Wolf's instincts kicked in. Why would a nurse hide an injury like that? Someone surely would have noticed; you can't just sneak in a make up kit into a hospital room and cover up a bruise that a doctor would have seen already by now. Unless the doctor was in on it too, which meant that most of the nurses and doctors would be corrupt as well? It hadn't been noted down on the chart, so it was being hidden. Had Garfield been injected with a poison? He wasn't dead yet, and it had been a direct injection, unlike the intravenous drip, which would have taken several hours to administer.

He set upon a resolution; he had to Garfield out of here. Ben had warned him about situations like this when he had first been assigned Alex's protection, that he should look out for people who were acting strangely or in a bizarre manner. This definitely classed as strange or bizarre, so did that mean Omega was behind this? It would make sense, considering they've tried killing Alex once, that they've attacked and killed two of his friends parents, and tired to take both his and Ella's life at the London Eye.

Wolf began pulling wires off of Garfield's frail body, the machines beeping and complaining in response. He could hear commotion outside, and he increased his pace, unlocking the bed and wheeling it out of the room, covering the teen with a blanket left on the side presumably for dozing visitors, much like himself.

Outside In the corridor, there was a group of random hospital staff marching their way towards Wolf. He heaved with all his might and swung the bed around, pushing it away from the advancing and menacing employees. No one called out for him to stop, only serving to confirm Wolf's suspicions that something was amiss. He wheeled the bed down another corridor, heading towards a thankfully open lift. He had barely slammed the bed inside when he felt hands trying to grab at his jacket.

He spun around, throwing whoever was attempting to attack him to the floor. It was the nurse from before, who growled savagely, launching herself at the closing lift doors. Wolf jumped back, hand reaching into his coat and pulling out his 9mm Browning, checking that it was loaded. As the lift began to descend, he noticed the heat grew more unbearable, until it was so hot he could hardly touch the sides of the elevator. He heard Garfield whimpering, a sign that the teen felt the heat too, and was possibly stirring in his coma. Wolf rested a hand atop Garfield's head, a sort of reassuring gesture for the man, making sure that he was there and vice versa for the kid.

The lift shuddered to a halt, the doors groaning as they struggled to open. As they did, Wolf saw the lick of fire curl through the tiny crack that was emerging. He slammed his fist against the buttons, willing for the doors to stay closed. They did, and the lift began pulling up again, shaking dangerously as it went upwards. Above him, Wolf heard something snap, possibly a cable. He didn't have much time left in the elevator before it became redundant for him.

The doors opened up onto the first floor, but the sound of gunfire and the pinging of bullets behind him meant him duck down for cover whilst trying to protect Garfield. He jabbed the button gain, keeping the doors closed as he thought up a plan. From what he had seen at a glance, there were a couple of doctors standing further down the corridor. They were the ones with the weapons, but he couldn't tell which kind. That made things tricky for Wolf; he couldn't gauge the range or accuracy of the gun they were using. He might have had a sure chance had he known, but for now he would have it risk it.

The doors began opening again, announcing the arrival of more bullets. Wolf reached out, grabbing the nearest solid thing to him and puling it back in with him before the doors slid shut again. The barrage of gunfire continued, denting the metal doors. Wolf examined his spoils, a standard pressurized carbon dioxide fire extinguisher. He quickly formulated a plan inside his head. If he could get down to the ground floor and out to his car, he could get away easily and to safety. But that meant getting past the heavy guard that blocked him from leaving the small confines of the lift. Trying to get down fro many higher would be pointless, and dangerous if Wolf was going to pull off what he wanted to do.

The soldier reached up and pulled Garfield's bruised body off the bed, the weight feeling shockingly light in his hands. It was as if the boy had hardly eaten anything at all; he was as light as a feather! Pushing the idiotic and random thoughts to one side, Wolf wrapped the boy up tightly in the blanket, not wanting the kid to get any sicker. He threw up the extinguisher onto the hospital bed, and he began covering it up with the sheets already there, making sure to point the nozzle away from the doors. Once Wolf was satisfied with his handiwork, he knelt back down, shielding Garfield with his body from what he was about to do. The doors began trundling open again, and the fire of guns rang back out into the lift.

Wolf brought the handle of his own gun up high, and brought it smashing down against the top of the extinguisher, cracking open the lid. The extinguisher, strapped securely to the bed, shot down the hall, dragging the trolley along with it, down to the doctors. They were forced to leap out of the way of the oncoming heavy bed, giving Wolf ample time to lift Garfield up bridal style and out of the lift. By the time the supposed doctors had recovered, the pair had long gone.

Wolf jogged down the corridor, afraid that too much jostling might aggravate Garfield's already tender wounds. He now realised that the entire ground floor of St Dominic's was on fire, someone having set it ablaze. The soldier had been forced to wander aimlessly for a couple of minutes checking all the stairwells for the sign of a clear exit. Luck was not on his side, it would seem, and everywhere he looked the fire was crawling upwards towards him. If he didn't act fast enough now, then he would be forced to vacate to the second floor and remain trapped in the burning hospital; either until help arrived (which he very much doubted) or an exit became apparent to him.

As much as he wished either for the latter or the former to become true, he couldn't place his hands in fate, and so he quickly scanned around for a makeshift exit. He heard footsteps milling about for while, but he kept himself and Garfield out of sight, not attracting attention. There were no screams of pain or terror, just calm doctors and nurses obviously searching for someone, namely him and the teen clutched to his chest.

The heat was licking beneath his feet now, Wolf could feel it, and he hopelessly ran through corridors, looking for an exit if only to save the kid but not him. He didn't care if he died, so long as the teen could survive, then that would be okay by Wolf's noble standards. He ran up to a full height window that over looked into some bushes.

It was perfect! Wolf nearly laughed from relief right there, had he not heard yet another, more insistent and heart wrenching whimper come from Garfield, who shuffled around a little in Wolf's grasp. He leant the boy to one shoulder, supporting his weight In the crook of one arm while the other raised the gun. Wolf glanced around, before letting loose a couple of shots, cracking and obliterating the glass. From behind him he heard muffled shouts and orders barked, but he ignored them, lifting up the teen back into position. The sound of charging footsteps at him made him jump out through the open window, through the hazy smoke that was drifting upwards and down into the life-saving shrubs below.

Wolf spun his body around so that he would take the brunt of the fall, but to his horror he saw the nurse from before screaming at him as he fell. She too, like him, had jumped through the window, her hands outstretched threateningly as they fell. Her scream slowly died out into nothingness as her body began to combust, yet more fire spilling out from around her limbs and throwing her into an inferno.

The soldier grunted in pain as he slammed hard on his back, rolling slightly with Garfield grasped tightly to him. He heard a hiss of pain come from the teen, but other than that he seemed okay. On the other hand, however, the nurse was suffering pitifully. The plant life that had broken Wolf's fall was now beginning to burn around him as the woman's flames caught the flammable leaves. He pushed himself to his feet as best he could in the smoke and fire, and pulled Garfield out into the open air with him, out and away from danger.

Taking huge gasps of clear crisp air, Wolf surveyed the scene, half the hospital burning away in flames. He looked up, seeing a few doctors who had fallen from the window as well suddenly begin burning, adding to the mass of the blaze. He shook his head, thankful that he and Garfield had escaped. He just wanted to get home and get to safety; so he gingerly picked the poor teen up, resting him gently against his aching chest and began a steady walk over to the car park, avoiding the large crowd that had gathered. He unlocked his truck, placed Garfield on the passenger seat and fastening his belt before he climbed into the other side. He started the engine, the old and reliable truck growling into life as it chugged out exhaust fumes. It was an ancient thing, but Wolf had grown sentimental of it, and it had so far not given up on him once. He glanced over to check that Garfield was okay, taking in the boy's wounded features, grimacing slightly at the sight of him, before pulling out of the car park and off home.

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Tom awoke with a lazy yawn; still exhausted from the day before, having got not an ounce of sleep at all fretting over Garfield, and having debates with himself over how he should have reacted at his parents' death. To be honest, he hadn't cared whether they were alive or not In the first place, so long as he had a place to sleep, food to eat and clothes to wear he hadn't been bothered. They had practically abandoned him to satisfy their own damaging arguments, and had hardly given him a second thought when it came to child custody. In fact, he remembered the horrible moment when both of them, in response to who wanted Tom's custody, said 'Who's Tom?'. It was as if he had never existed In the first place. The simple fact that they had named their only children after cartoon characters stood as a testament to that.

He gazed around his room. It was relatively large, larger than his bedroom at his Mum's house, and most certainly better than his Dad's couch (his father hadn't bothered to make accommodations for the teen). The room was painted a soft green, the curtains darker shade. The floor was bare wood, but Tom didn't mind, considering it was more appealing than his last residence. He had a wardrobe that covered most of one wall, and desk sat under his bunk bed. Lion had originally thought the bunk bed idea was a bit childish, but Tom had relished in it, proclaiming it to be the greatest invention known to man.

Speaking of the soldier, Tom had tried to get on well with him, but the man had seemed uneasy around the teen, both unsure of where they stood with one another. Lion was a passive, out-going kind of guy, whereas Tom was the rambunctious and very excitable kid placed in his rather reluctant care. Orders were orders, Lion had said, much to the annoyance of Tom, who had been placed here somewhat against his will. There was much tension between the pair, but Tom was hungry, and he wanted food; he was willing to put aside differences for some sizzling strips of bacon.

He wandered out of his now assigned bedroom, still wearing his pyjamas. His room was directly opposite Lion's, and man's door was wide open. He could see inside, the room a crisp light brown, bare wood, much like most of the apartment. It was that elaborately decorated, but it seemed to suit the man; down to earth and open.

Tom padded barefoot down the hall, passing the shared bathroom that neighboured his, and into the open living room, where the kitchen stood partially closed off by a breakfast bench. It was a pretty compact apartment, but with what Lion or the previous owner had made the place feel much larger and spacious. The calm colours were passive, reflecting the man's temperament, and the furniture was basic but functional. It worked easily enough for the soldier, who was rarely here, either out on missions or deployments, or out with friends, according to the man himself. To Tom, that translated as either getting laid, or out drinking and partying. But that might have just been a generation gap error, as he didn't take Lion to be the kind of person to stay out all night binge drinking or scouting for women. Maybe he had been joking, or he was into the old fashioned kind of drinking where it was a round of pints with team members.

However, the smell of cooked meat brought Tom out of his cacophony of thoughts. The heavenly scent of his once-imaginary bacon wafted throughout the apartment, and Tom followed the rich trail to the kitchen, where Lion's back was turned as he cooked the delicious meal. Tom sat on one of the stools, waiting to be noticed and too tired to announce his presence. But it seemed Lion had a sixth sense for drowsy slinking teens,

"Morning Tom," Lion said over his shoulder, "Sleep okay?"

"No," the teen answered truthfully, "Too much stuff going on. I can't think straight." Lion turned around, bringing the pan holding their breakfast with him. He smiled apologetically at Tom as he dished out the bacon to two already waiting full English breakfasts that had been lying to one side,

"Sorry to hear that," he said softly, "You just take your time. No one's going to rush you." Tom appreciated the man's kindness, but the appreciation increased tenfold when he tasted the meal laid before him. Lion chuckled at Tom's eagerness as he shovelled the food into his mouth and gulped greedily from a coffee mug he had prepared for the teen. Tom hadn't realised just _how_ hungry he was as he soon polished the plate clean, and downed the remaining dregs of coffee. He burped loudly but contently, but hastily apologised when he remembered where he was and in whose company,

"It's okay," Lion said laughing, "I think you may just be louder than Eagle!" Tom had chortled along with that, not being able to imagine the grown SAS man belching obnoxiously. Maybe he would challenge him one day. It was a bad habit, Tom knew, but his parents had never complained, either being too lazy to even try and discipline him or too busy to reprimand him. It was nothing short if a miracle that at least he had decent behaviour and relatively adequate grades with few detentions.

Tom cringed to himself, aware that his thoughts had once again strayed back to his deceased parents. He turned his attention to Lion who was eating away silently in front of him. He had deep green eyes, like a cats, and his hair was a sandy blonde. Had he been an animal, Tom would have put him down as a lion; he guessed that must've been where the name came from. His mother had blonde hair like that, but had the consistency of straw as she rarely ever washed it, nor conditioned. He growled at himself, annoyed that once again he was thinking about his parents. He tried a different tactic of distracting himself by making small talk with Lin, getting to know the man he would be staying with for the indefinite future,

"So… what do I call you; Lion, sir or dude?" Tom asked casually. The man just grunted while taking a swig of his own coffee,

"Just call me Darren," came the blunt reply, and another few seconds of silence ticked by, before Tom tried again,

"You mentioned that when your back home from missions that you go out and stuff. Is that with or without K-Unit?"

"Depends," the man said, taking another sip of his coffee, "K-Unit are more like bond brothers, so I tend to stick with them when I'm feeling calm or mellow. They're pretty good guys to hang around, not too sombre but entertaining all the same when you just want to wind down. If I'm feeling pumped or energetic, I go out with a few college buds of mine. We usually spend the night drinking or touring the clubs." He acted as though it were nothing, but here Tom was seeing two sides of what he had once thought to be a plain soldier. He probed further,

"You're still friends with people from college?" he inquired, "So you didn't go to university, but still stayed in touch?" Lion nodded as he finished off his breakfast and turned to wash the plates, having no dishwasher at all,

"Yep, I dropped out of college on the last year; things just weren't working out for me. I joined the army to sort myself out, and over the few years I did some top secret hush-hush stuff. Got my rank up and then recruited for the SAS, where I joined K-Unit. Some friends from my college years hung around with me, but they all got jobs and are now either married, engaged or still single, like me."

"You're single? No woman who's taken a fancy to you, or a girlfriend maybe?" Tom said in good natured humour, but Lion just sighed,

"No, not really my kind of thing," he answered cryptically. Tom fell silent for a few short tense seconds as he figured it out,

"You're gay?" he asked, slightly bewildered. Lion huffed, giving the teen a look that said 'do I have to spell it out for you',

"Yes." The blunt response caught Tom off guard. He hadn't really given it much thought about other people's sexuality. He was straight, naturally, he had Mel and that's all he needed. But what he hadn't considered was the prospect of someone he knew to be homosexual. Some other boy's at school often used it as an insult for petty arguments, but Tom knew better than that. In his opinion, it wasn't a bad thing; it wasn't wrong or evil. It was just that someone loved someone else of the same gender. Who cared?

"Wow…" came Tom's gormless reply, "Never would've guessed, because you're SAS and all and not girly…"

"No, of course not," Lion said, slamming the dish into the soapy water with a little more force than necessary, "because every gay man has to act feminine and wear bright pink clothes and speak with a weird accent _just because_ their gay and for no other reason!"

"I was just-"

"Some people and their stupid arrogant stereotypes really piss me off sometimes, thinking that we're all the same because of a single minority!" Lion ground out, scrubbing the plates furiously, seething anger flaring up inside him, "And yet we're made out to be the bad guys. It's unnatural, it's weird or it's against God's will. Just excuses because no one likes change and they want to keep us from leading relatively normal lives."

Tom sat their slightly taken aback. He hadn't meant to upset the man, but he'd touched upon some grudge maybe, or perhaps Lion felt strongly about his beliefs so much so that he defended them with vigour. Tom wanted to apologise, and tell him he was okay with it and didn't care who he was attracted to or loved, but he was scared as to how the man might react. It was verging on hysteria, and Tom tired to keep calm, but his heart was pounding in his ribcage. Lion whirled around, but stopped mid-rant as he saw Tom's fearful expression,

"I'm sorry…" the teen said meekly, failing at trying to keep up a brave mask. Lion's face softened immediately, fear seeping into him, afraid he had traumatised the teen even more,

"No, I'm sorry," he began, his fury deflating until it was just a rotten memory, "I shouldn't have shouted at you, you're only young. I just… it's just that with my job it's hard to keep up my life while maintaining the illusion with my career. K-Unit know, and are cool with I and have promised never to bring it up; but if it were to get out then I fear for my rank, what with the 'don't ask-don't tell' law still floating around I can never be too sure. I just get really angry at people who think they know better than me and belittle me because of who I am." Tom sighed, relieved that Lion had calmed down,

"It's fine with me, if you're worried about me. My parents managed to botch up their marriage together and made my life hell. But you've helped me by taking me in, and you're doing a damn better job with your life than what they did with their lives, and with caring for me. I don't care who loves whoever, as long as their happy. It's like me and Mel; we're complete opposites, yet I love her with all my heart, and it's not just teenage love." Tom admitted, no longer afraid of Lion now that he had put his thoughts out. Lion gazed at Tom thoughtfully,

"That's a very mature way of looking at things, Tom."

"I aim to surprise," he said cheekily, sticking his tongue out at the man, who just chuckled at him,

"So we're okay then, yeah? You and me; your not put off by me or anything, or you?" Tom shook his head,

"We're cool. I'm okay with it, and to be honest, you're the first gay man I've ever known personally," he answered honestly, a moment of mutual silence passing between the two of them before Tom piped up, "So, got a boyfriend then?"

Lion groaned; this was going to be a long day.

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Tom was bored.

He'd been lying around Lion's apartment, catching up with homework that he had left over as the only mental stimulation in the way of education he had. He texted his friends, Ella busy with visiting relatives, Mel stuck at home with her parents after yesterdays escapade and Alex running around sorting things out with the Omega investigation he'd been assigned. Garfield had left a huge pile of data encrypted, and Alex was forced to piece together the evidence that had been slowly collated over the years to summarise what was known so far. He felt sorry for him, but didn't envy him one bit. Omega seemed really dangerous, and Mr Riddle had been terrifying as it was. He was thankful it wasn't him trying to track down the criminals and their organisation; they absolutely petrified him.

TV had been mind numbing as well. Day time television was utterly depressing for the wound up teen; auction shows and lunchtime news simply slowed time down to an infinitesimal rate. With no one to talk to, nothing to do and an idle soldier who seemed to be more interested in planning what he needed to get and food to buy, Tom quickly descended into madness. It was the ringing of the phone that brought him out of his stupidity, half way to gnawing on furniture to satisfy his random craving. Lion – or Darren to Tom – answered, picking up his mobile and listening intently to the other end, only occasionally asking simple questions like 'How?' or 'Is he okay?'. After a brief few minutes, he pulled the mobile away from his ear and slid it back into his pocket,

"That was Wolf," he spoke at to Tom, answering his own silent questions, "He says that Pup, or Garfield, is now at his place."

"Why?" Tom asked the furniture saved from his insanity, intrigued as to why his friend was at Wolf's house,

"St Dominic's got attacked by Omega, according to Alex. It must've been infiltrated as well. Wolf had to rescue Pup from them after they tried injecting him with something."

"Injecting with what?" Tom carried on, asking questions, "Was that bruise thing he was on about actually true?" Darren nodded,

"Snake's given him a look over; Pup was injected with some kind of serum. Ben and Alex are going to run tests, but fortunately from what they can see there's no physical effect. They're just waiting for him to wake up now and assess his mental state." Tom looked confused,

"But Snake said he wouldn't wake up until after a week or so, not until he's finished recovering," he said, puzzled yet worried for his friend's health.

"Apparently, Snake says that during his escape from St Dominic's, his subconscious had been pumping adrenaline into his system in a bid to wake him up sooner and get to safety; fight or flight, see? Well, he says now that the adrenaline has muddled up his internal clock, and he'll wake up _much_ sooner, which is a bad thing, because he'll still be recovering. He should be conscious in a day or so." Lion/Darren explained his own concern evident in his voice. He sighed, "There isn't much we can do for him at the moment. Snake has expressly prohibited anyone from visiting him in case of infections or stress on Pup's body. For now, we just get on with our own lives and wait it out. In the mean time, I suggest we go and get you some new stuff; what you have is pitiful."

Darren was referring to Tom's measly possessions. He hardly had anything left from living with his parents, except a few clothes and odd bits and bobs. He'd never had enough money of his own saved up at any one time to afford his own stuff, and what he did manage to acquire that was worth anything of value was quickly stolen by his parents; they sold anything to get money, be it for booze or yet more gambling. Tom, although one couldn't tell, was living in rags, and was suffering inside because of it. He saw people at school flashing around top of the range mobiles and gadgets, and all he had was a what others may have called a 'brick'.

Here, Lion was offering him free stuff (hopefully), and so turning down an offer like that on simple modesty or pride was an idiotic choice. He agreed eagerly, going to get changed and be ready for the two to go out.

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Tom had never felt so accepted in all his life; Lion had bought the teen a huge pile of clothes, a new mobile contract for him so he could get a better model phone and to top it all off, a _laptop_! He tried protesting, the soldier had already gotten him enough for him to get by on, but he insisted. His excuse was that he only spent his money on food, drinks or random stuff he didn't need, and so had a large stash saved up that had been gaining a considerable amount of interest over the years. Also, he had told the teen that if he was going to keep up schoolwork and improve his grades, he need to do some work online to catch up, having seen his homework.

It was a memorable few hours that Tom spent with Darren. It was a nice change from the constant pressure of living with his parents, and the ever present threat of abuse and neglect. For once in the past few months, Tom felt normal again, but he tried to hide his glee; he couldn't get comfortable around a man who maybe didn't want him. But if this is what foster care was like then maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for Tom to try it out, now that he had relatively little choice. Jerry had made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing more to do with the teen; so Tom was going to make his own choices from now on.

Darren had suggested, now that they had covered the basics of toiletries, clothes, books and stationery, that they should find somewhere to eat, having skipped lunch due to the time and now had hours to kill. Tom had suggested a whole heap of places he and Mel had visited, but Lion couldn't keep up with the hyperactive teen at the mention of food, and so just suggested a simple McDonald's (not Snake – the fast-food restaurant). Tom agreed, ordering as much as he could since he rarely ever ate at such places, and Lion had regretfully paid out, and soon they were eating and chatting about miscellaneous topics, such as what is was like in the SAS, which football teams they supported or how was school (before it burned down).

The rest of the day passed pretty quickly for Tom. Lion had mentioned to the teen in conversation that Eagle was coming over, as the man couldn't afford his own TV, surprisingly. Tom thought that Darren was just pulling his leg, but the serious look he had on his face made him think otherwise. So, they settled on the plan that if Tom wanted to, he could maybe have _one_ alcoholic drink and stay up with them for a while, or he could go to his room and set up his laptop. As much as Tom wanted a beverage and a chance to talk with another member of K-Unit, he was still exhausted from yesterday and now today, and called in an early night.

Eagle arrived soon after Tom was getting ready for bed, and the man nodded his greeting, talking to him of a bit whilst Lion got beers sorted out. As it turned out, Tom and Eagle had a lot in common, and Lion was thankful that the kid at least had _someone_ he could relate to socially. Eagle even suggested that Tom become his apprentice and 'partner in crime', much to the dismay of Lion. It was getting late, however, and try as he might Tom couldn't stay awake, so he excused himself, and slipped off to bed, leaving Eagle and Lion to sit and watch whichever badly made film they'd chosen.

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The night was restless for Tom. He kept stirring at the sound of laughter coming from down the hall, and the unfamiliar noises that he wasn't quite used to. He registered Eagle leaving, and Lion checking on him through a partially open door, but other than that, it was uneasily quiet for the teen. When he did manage to finally get to sleep, horrible nightmares suffocated him:

_Where was he? Why was it dark?_

_Light begins to fade in; illuminating the table he was sitting at, his brother opposite him with his parents on each side. Weren't they supposed to be dead? Wasn't Jerry in France? It was impossible, yet here they all were, at the family table as though it had all been some bad dream._

_Suddenly, the table began to vibrate and creak, and it began to contort and snap in different directions. It grew longer, his parents flying backwards with it into the shadows and beyond, further and further away from him and his brother. Tom heard shouts and crashes, but he couldn't see anything. The darkness still consumed them. He tried calling out, but his voice was drowned out by the arguments._

_After an eternity of shrieks and shouts, the light began to grow brighter, casting its glow across what looked to be like an airfield. A plane stood waiting, its engines roaring. In the distance, someone was beckoning to the boy's that remained in the light. Jerry got up, the chair toppling over and he ran over to the aeroplane, dashing up the steps. Tom tried to follow, but he couldn't move; his body rigid and tense. He tried again to call out; to his brother this time, successfully in bellowing 'Jerry' but his brother paid no notice. The plane began to pull away, and the shadows crept in again._

_The chair beneath him vanished, and Tom collapsed to the floor, the table no longer existent either. He couldn't see anything in any direction at all, and his parents shouting had now become sobs from his mother and snarls from his father. He ran towards either sound, but all they did was get quieter and more distant._

_He felt like breaking down and crying himself. There was no one, no matter how hard he called out or how far he ran, no one came. But just as he fell to his knees, giving up, and two figures appeared through the gloom. He looked up, hopeful that someone had heard him and had come to help; the two bodies walked closer, until all he could see were the corpses of his parents. _

_He backed away, shuffling on his hands and feet as they drew closer and closer. He couldn't get away! Yet they came closer and closer and closer._

_He felt like he should kill himself, just to escape the pain. Why did he feel pain? Why did it hurt so much?_

_The shadows began to claw at him, drawing him in. Tom let them, his body falling limp in their grasp. He was giving up. This was the end._

_But out of the dark came a blinding white light and a humungous roar as a lion launched itself at him-_

Tom woke with a start, panting and heaving for air. The room was spinning, half his covers on the floor. His body was sticky and damp with sweat, and he felt sick. The bile was rising in his throat; yes, he was going to be sick.

The teen rushed to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet as he vacated his stomach of its contents. The rank taste in his mouth seemed to seep all over hid gums, so even when he finished the lingering taste was still there. He breathed heavily, taking in as much air as he could from the exertion of throwing up.

He barely noticed Darren, who crept over to lean in the doorway from his room,

"Nightmare?" he asked casually, a hint of concern in his voice. Tom glanced bitterly over at him

"Like you'd care," he sneered, still horrified at his dream, "You didn't even want me." Lion looked confused,

"When did I say that?"

"You didn't need to. You were ordered, not asked" Lion huffed,

"So buying you all that crap, taking you into my home giving you food to eat; that was all just some bizarre scheme of mine?" he sounded hurt slightly, maybe annoyed, "I never said I didn't want you. It's just that things get in the way, like now I'm going to have to work out a way to keep up your education to feed you _as well as_ me. I wasn't really expecting to look after a teenager so soon."

Tom sucked in some breath, only serving to aggravate his stomach, ensuing another dry heaving into the bowl. He felt awful, as each time his gut cramped failing to produce anything to bring up. Lion sighed, walking over to the teen and patting him on the back,

"If it's any consolation; I understand what you're going through," he said gently, still rubbing and patting Tom's back. He flopped down to the floor, sighing at the soldier,

"How's that then?"

"My dad was a drunkard. He was another factor in why I signed up. As a kid, when I couldn't fight back, he would come home and hit my mum, my sisters and me. For years it was like that, until one of my sisters ran away. He got angry, and I fought back. So he left, and the next day we found out he'd killed himself. Pretty grim, but I got over it," Darren explained softly, "I hated every fibre of his being, but I still loved hm. Much like you and your parents; even though you hate them for what they did to you, you still love them. You're still grieving over them. You can't just dismiss your feelings, it's not healthy. Trust me, this is coming from someone with experience," he joked trying some light humour. Tom glance dup, a weary smile on his face. Lion smiled back, lifting the teen up by the shoulders. Together, they managed to stumble into the lounge, where Lion laid Tom down on the sofa, pulling a blanket over him. He then went and sat on the chair opposite, encouraging Tom to sleep,

"Go on," he whispered, "I'll wait right here if you need me."

And slowly, but surely, Tom's eyes drooped shut, and he fell into a blank, but peaceful slumber, with Lion following right after him, leaning back in the armchair.

Maybe he might just be able to handle the hyperactive teen after all…

**So, I tried to even out mushy with action. We get a look see into the stories behind Wolf and Lion, and we learn a little about them too, along with Tomas well. Who would have thunk it?**

**If you noticed, I tried to keep this from Tom's perspective for the majority, instead of Alex's. So far all we've managed to see is the life inside the Daniel's household, so I thought for a breath of fresh air I'd do Tom. The next chapter will be Blue.**

**I thank you again for all your wonderful reviews, and hope you keep reading!**

**Thanks – K9**


	17. Garfield

**HI! Sorry, I'm late, I know… lost track of time **_**completely**_**. Bit of writer's block but I recovered, just like Garfield should be any time now…**

**In response to reviews:**

**Harry-potter-obsessed1313: Indeed 'twas long. This one is nearly just as long, but not quite. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story and this chapter.**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: I do miss out words occasionally, sorry! I went back and corrected the one you pointed out, if you'd care to check. That was a big error on my part, and I'm trying not to screw up. Some of your questions get answered, so you'll just have to see. Thanks for reading & reviewing.**

**Iamawsome: Glad you like the chapter, and I have good news; I found a subtle way to get Sabina back into the plot. And yes… hint hint. Thanks for the review.**

**Sapphire2309: Rant all you want, its fun to read great reviews. As you can see, by the following chapter, that your questions are answered, hope your sister stops bugging you soon, and that **_**your**_** writer's block clears. **

**Lightning and Blossoms: It's good to see someone picks up on the story so far down the line; I've been reading you're other reviews. Thanks for taking your time to review every now and again on old chapters! I'm glad you like Tom's predicament, and I have a new update for you.**

**Here's chapter 17-**

Even with his head drifting in and out of consciousness, Garfield knew he was in someone else's home. The mattress that supported his weight was much harder than his own, and far softer than a hospital bed. So, he wasn't in a hospital, nor was he in his own surroundings, what else?

The sound of passing cars and splashes of water meant he was nearer to the centre of the city, and the gentle ticking told him that he could at least no the time (whether it was accurate or not he didn't know). But it begged the question; what time was it? How long had he been left unconscious? A breeze was rolling, possible through an open window. So he hadn't been kidnapped; no captor would leave such a commodity open for the captive to either escape through or call for help. There already cars passing by, so it wouldn't have been that much of challenge to attract someone's attention. The breeze could be a fan, but there was no whirring of a motor, and even so the electrical appliance could give Garfield the benefit of a few wires, and access to electricity. Slowly, the teen risked cracking open his eyes just slightly.

It was dark, maybe early hours of the morning, from what Garfield could see. There _was _a window, the curtains pulled back allowing for a soft glow to be cast by lingering moonlight into the room. It had been opened at some point, most likely by whoever had brought him here. Garfield tried sitting up, but was rewarded with a searing pain shooting across his body. His arms shook as he weakly propped himself up on his elbows, before they finally gave out crashing him back onto the bedding. What had happened? Why was he in this state? His hand meandered down over his bare body, realising he was only in a pair of boxer shorts. But that didn't matter; the rest of his body that wasn't clothed was covered with patches and wrappings of bandage. He looked more like a mummy than a teenager. They were wound around him pretty tightly, restricted his movements and airways, but that didn't matter right now. What did, however, was where he was and why he was there.

Garfield tried again, this time gritting his teeth as the same burning pain coursed through him. He managed this time, however, to raise himself up and get his head and torso resting against the headboard. The room was dark, but his eyesight quickly adjusted to the shadows, taking in the sparse furniture and mediocre décor. His eyes flicked left and right scanning for minor details that might help him retain knowledge and learn his whereabouts and circumstances. There were tiny scuffs and scratches on the bedpost to Garfield's left, a clock placed above a full length mirror, a door to the side open just a smidgeon; it all added up to the teen. There was a line of boots, and Garfield could make out a uniform of some kind hung up in a wardrobe set to one side open.

The man, judging by the boot's design and size, was a soldier. The uniform in the wardrobe was military, but of what regiment or section he couldn't tell. A high up one, probably, going by the holster scratches on the bedpost. There was no other reason to hang something on a bedpost unless it was vitally important, and making the military connection fitted with the idea of a handgun; no civilian would have a gun. The man who lived here was right handed, hanging his holster up on the left bedpost which would be to his right when he entered the room. The full length mirror meant the man took his looks seriously, along with punctuality. The clock above the mirror acted as a deterrent for lateness, and reminded whomever of the time.

Could it be one of K-Unit? He would have guessed Snake, but the teen was in a double bed, and Snake was married. Not Snake then, and most certainly not Fox or Lion; a fifty-fifty choice between Wolf and Eagle. Wolf, it had to be; the room was too neat and orderly to be the unit's maniac resident Eagle. Garfield grunted again, using his weight to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. His body felt as though it was on fire. Idle hands traced up and along the bandages that plastered most of his torso, legs and head. The clotted fabric clung to his skin, and Garfield felt physically repulsed by the state he was in. He sucked in another deep breath, preparing to lift himself off the bed.

He pushed downwards on the mattress, he arms screaming at him, begging him to stop. He stumbled a little, but ground his teeth together and managed to stand, uneasily swaying from side to side. His legs felt numb, his left one throbbed dangerously and his chest was beginning to sting. Getting used to the pain, he staggered forwards a little, limping on his left foot to prevent stabs of agony shooting up his body. It felt like it took an eternity to reach the door, but he eventually made it, leaning his weight against its bare wood.

His bandaged hand fumbled with the handle, but he grasped it and cautiously swung it open, fearing the worst.

He was met by an open landing, a small hallway with an open door to his immediate right hat led into a cramped bathroom. Down the hall, Garfield could make out some kind of kitchen suite, tucked away in one corner, with lights flickering across the small expanse. It was a TV, judging by the random occurrence of colours and shades. But there was no sound; Wolf must have turned it off to mute. He did hear, however, was heavy snoring unmistakably belonging to the unit leader if Garfield remembered correctly. He breathed a ragged sigh of relief, chest tightening in complaint as he did so. At least he hadn't been abducted.

Garfield took a few shuffled steps forward, body racked with pain. Maybe Wolf had some pain killers, or aspirin _or something_ just to take the pain away. His hands found support from the walls, his bare palms dragging across the surface. His head, leg and chest throbbed achingly, demanding for rest but Garfield pressed on. He rubbed the bandages over his torso in attempt to soothe the agony. It was unusual, though, when his hands came back wet. He examined them in the pale light, noting the dark crimson shade to it. The bandages were soaked, a bloody red blotch spreading over his chest.

The bandages on his leg were the same, and Garfield reached up to feel the wrappings around his head. They were just the same, slowly seeping blood down over his cheek.

Quelling the rising panic that threatened to consume him, Garfield took more reckless steps forward, staggering from wall to wall as he did so with no sense of balance or co-ordination. He managed to get out into the main living area, where he found Wolf, asleep, in some kind of den or TV room that was cordoned off by a makeshift barrier. Garfield took in the sight of documents and papers scattered around the snoring man, which were accompanied by hundreds of mugs and plates. The man wasn't even wearing shirt, for heaven's sakes, just lying there snoring his head off in only his baggy sweatpants. Was that why it was so hot? The man looked a wreck, as though he had been up for hours. There was a slight smell as well, sweat, maybe? He didn't exactly life hygienically, Garfield supposed, but that mattered little to him at the moment. Questions and answers were all that mattered; what were these forms? Why did Wolf have them? Why was he even _here_?

He tried to take a step forward, but his bad foot gave out on him mid step, his weight crashing down on his injured leg. He let out a small cry as the agony coursed through his body and slammed hard against the floor. Taking harboured breaths, he looked up to see if Wolf had awoken. The snoring was quieter, but the man was still asleep, much to Garfield's dismay.

Garfield pulled himself up a little, but slumped back down when he found he didn't have the strength. There was a small pool forming around him. What was it? It kept spreading in all directions from around Garfield, and only then did he realise it was blood.

_His_ blood.

He was _really_ struggling to breathe now, unable to draw in more than a measly whisper of air. The bandages that were once wrapped neatly around his body were tattered and weeping; the sight was ugly, and he could barely bring himself to look at the wounds. Garfield tried in a futile attempt to just take deep breaths and calm down as he was slowly suffocated by pain. It wasn't working… his vision was dimming black with flecks of red as the blood from above his eye seeped downwards. Was he going to die? No; he just had to get help. Wolf. He had to call Wolf.

"Help…" Garfield called out meekly his voice a hoarse whimper. He shuddered worryingly as he tried to lift himself once again, "Wolf… please, help…"

He collapsed back down again, a louder thump than last time. He really couldn't breath. Was he going to die? He couldn't die like this, not helplessly.

Through the dim haze of remaining consciousness, Garfield could make out the rush of papers and stomp of footsteps echoing out around him. There was a curse and a profanity in there somewhere, but he wasn't sure; he just felt cold.

Rough yet strong hands gripped him, lifting him up comfortingly. Their warmth radiated through him, making him smile just a little. He was pressed close to something, or someone, with just the same amount of radiant heat as the hands that grasped him close. He could feel smooth warm skin pressing against his own drenched skin. Coarse hair scratched against his face, but he didn't care. He just wanted help. Who was holding him? Who was it? Was it Wolf?

Yes; it had to be Wolf.

"Oh, Pup… what am I going to do with you?" he whispered softly to the teen as Garfield promptly passed out.

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Wolf wasn't happy.

He wasn't happy for a number of reasons. Firstly, to avoid traipsing through MI5 call centres and other government dead ends, Wolf had decided to handle the fostering applications on his own. The forms, however, were covered in absolute jargon and lingo that he couldn't understand, and he had spent nearly the entirety of the day sorting through the relevant documents and filling in reams of applications. Somewhere along the line he had fallen asleep despite drinking a dozen cups of strong coffee.

Secondly, because he had fallen asleep, his soon-to-be ward had woken up without him knowing, and recklessly although inevitably decided to wander around trying to find answers as to where he was and what had happened; which wouldn't have been a problem, had Garfield not had several huge gashes adorning his body, each with their very own set of gruesome looking stitches.

Thirdly, Garfield's little exploration had resulted with him tearing loose a couple of stitches, and even worse damaged his weak body by falling head first onto the laminated wood flooring. The stitches had to be replaced by Snake, who was not a happy man either when woken up in the early hours of the morning to do a house call. The medic had blamed Wolf for the teen's further injuries, scolding the man for not being more attentive. He'd been riled up by the harsh accusations, but kept quiet just for Garfield's sake.

But what he was _not_ happy about at all was that he had had an impossible task of finding a cleaning product powerful enough to remove the bloodstains that had been left behind by his ward. Wolf sighed, scrubbing away the last of the acrid and garish gleams of red. The bucket beside him was full to the brim with hot, soapy water now tainted crimson. He dumped the cloth he had been using back into the bucket, satisfied at the splash it made as he was finally finished in mopping up the last of Garfield's blood from the floors and rugs.

He took the bucket back to the kitchenette, dumping the bucket into the empty sink. He didn't have a dishwasher, and a stack of cups and plates laid high next the draining board. He really did have to start pulling his weight around now he had a kid in the house.

He wiped away the sweat that had formed whilst cleaning, grabbing a nearby tee shirt and pulling it over his bare torso. Didn't want to freak the kid out; living in Spain for a good part of his life meant he was used to things that maybe his estranged ward wasn't. Even though he had also spent time in Iraq, and the English heat wave had struck him pretty bad regardless.

He made a hot mug of tea (a clean mug, that is) and made some breakfast. Nothing fancy, he didn't want to risk Garfield having another nasty turn if the food was too rich for him. Wolf didn't feel like eating, not after he'd seen Garfield collapsed on the floor bleeding his guts out. Sure, he'd seen soldiers take bullets and lose limbs from hidden explosives and IEDs, but to see a kid calling out to him whilst whimpering on the floor of his flat was a different matter altogether. He felt sick to his very core.

With food prepared and mug in hand, Wolf made his way to the bedroom (it was a one bedroom flat, after all) and walked in to see Garfield, sprawled out just as Snake and he had left him. The bandages had been changed, fresh and sparkling white, and his stitches looked far better than when he had seen them earlier yesterday. He praised whichever deity that had allowed Garfield to survive; he didn't know what he would have done had the kid died on him.

He crept over to the bedside, sitting down on just the edge so as to avoid the slumbering teen's bad leg and placed the breakfast on the side desk,

"Pup…" Wolf whispered gently, shaking Garfield's shoulder a little, "You need to get up so I can check you over." That was a downright lie; he only wanted the kid up so he could rest assured knowing the kid was alright. Just a minute or two, get Pup to eat something then let him get back to sleep, quick and simple. Garfield shuddered slightly at the touch, his skin still cold and clammy from his excursion about Wolf's flat, "Pup, wake up. Come on, you need to wake up."

The teen stirred a little, shifting around on Wolf's bed. He tried again, this time rubbing the unwrapped side of the boy's head, brushing away the matted and clotted strand of hair that clung to his forehead, "Pup?" he spoke softly, "Time to get up, come on." Wolf was being extremely patient, more so than he would have liked to admit. He wasn't known for being the calmest man, in fact he was quite the jerk with some people, but with the teen he was making an unconscious exception.

"Garfield?" the name rolled off his tongue naturally, a strange ring to it. He realised, that if all went well with the fostering, then he might… Garfield Alvarez; it sounded good.

"Wolf?" a mumbled voice slurred, drawing the man's attention back to the teen,

"I'm here," he said, taking his hand away, pushing down ever so lightly on Garfield's chest as he attempted to once again sit up, "Don't Pup, you'll tear your stitches again. Just lie down." He was being rather commanding, but Garfield did as he was told, his head groggy and distorted,

"Where am I?" he croaked, sagging back onto the bed.

"My flat," Wolf answered, his hands moving over the bandages, watching the teen's reaction to pressure or movement. He winced a couple of times as the boy whimpered when his hands fleetingly brushed against cloth hiding the healing gashes, but other than that he was fine, "According to Cub, they managed to infiltrate St Dominic's and tried to do something to you, probably an attempt on your life."

"Who infiltrated St Dominic's, and why? How did I get here?" Garfield said, his mind beginning to clear a little, the murkiness lifting. He tried to sit up again, only to have yet another rough hand gently press him back down,

"I told you not to get up," Wolf scolded softly, his hands keeping the teen held down on the bed, "I got you out of the hospital and brought you here." He fumbled off to the side with a bag that Snake had left for him. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was about time the previous pain killers were wearing off. He pulled out a hypodermic needle and a vial full of clear colourless liquid. Wolf carefully pierced the lid, drew out some unknown measured volume. Checking for air, he was satisfied with his work and turned back around to face Garfield who was still trying to scramble up and away, a panicked look and his eyes set fixed on the needle.

"What's wrong?" Wolf cooed, trying to soothe the teen's torment, "Don't tell me you're scared of needles?" A small smirk played across Wolf's lips, but he hid it well. The teen looked downcast for a moment, and Wolf thought he may have pushed it a little too far, wincing as he did so.

"I'm not!" Garfield blurted out, before hesitating, "Well, at least I _wasn't_, until an incident at Greenfields. I got stung by something and needed the antidote. Turned out the antidote was toxic to humans, and I nearly died from it. Never been the same around needles again." Wolf sighed, his hand rubbing over Garfield's chest comfortingly in circular motions,

"Don't worry," he said calmly coaxing the teen as he relaxed somewhat under Wolf's soft caress, "It's harmless. Just a small pinprick and it'll be over." Garfield looked sceptical, but after a little more encouragement reluctantly held out his good arm for Wolf to administer. He was beginning to feel sick again, and just hoped that the injection would settle his nerves. He bit his lip and looked away, whimpering as Wolf wiped the intended area with alcohol.

'_Stupid! Stupid pathetic Garfield!'_ he thought to himself, _'You're a bloody MI5 agent, now act like one. It's just an injection!'_

"I'll count to three," Wolf said, preparing the needle against Garfield's arm, "One…"

Wolf quickly pierced the teen's skin without carrying on the countdown. It worked, distracting the kid from the pain slightly, but Garfield still let out a quiet cry of pain as he felt the relentless steel enter his arm. The invading instrument was plunged down, and then pulled out just as fast as it had entered. Wolf swiftly brought some cotton wool he'd kept at the side and pressed it down over the tiny wound, helping the blood to clot.

"See?" Wolf said, smiling goofily a little at Garfield's betrayed yet thankful expression, "That wasn't so bad." The teen muttered something incomprehensible, probably a curse or profanity in Wolf's direction but he didn't care. So long as he had someone to take the anger out on; it was better him than anyone else.

"I made you some breakfast, just thought you might be hungry. Do you have any more questions, or do you just want to be left alone now?"

"Can I come with you? To the living room, I mean," Garfield drawled, not quite wanting to be left alone in his state, paranoia niggling at his thoughts, "How long have I been unconscious?"

"About a day or so… why do you want to come with me? You can stay here and rest," Wolf pointed out, curious at the teen's sudden turn and neediness.

"I just don't want to stay cooped up in bed. How long _am_ I supposed to stay in bed, by the way?" he continued persuading. The man leant back against the furthest side of the bed,

"Snake said you'd need a couple of days, possibly three of bed rest before you can get up and about," Wolf informed. Garfield rolled his eyes and made once again to get out of bed,

"Which, in spy-speak, translates to a day. Help me get up," Garfield asked matter-of-factly, ignoring the worried looks he was getting from Wolf. The man moved to push him back down, once again reminding him that he shouldn't be getting up so soon, but the teen growled at him, "I am **not **going to stay in bed for all of three days! Now either you help me get up now _safely_, or else I'm just going to keep getting up on my own regardless of how many times to drag me back."

"I could just strap you down to the bed. Lie down in comfort or not, it's up to you."

"And I could just break out of them," Garfield scoffed, ignoring Wolf's subtle threat, "I have trained as an escapologist… A few belts won't be much of a challenge. I've broken out of chains once."

Wolf thought for a moment, weighing up his options. In his own mind, he didn't want to keep the kid in bed if he didn't want to, but the image of him lying in a pool of blood kept flashing before his eyes every time he thought of letting him up.

But that was without help. Wolf could help Garfield up and make sure he's okay, and not damaging his body further. He sighed in defeat,

"Fine, but you're not walking. I'll carry you." The teen was taken aback, and before he could protest Wolf had thrown back the duvet and already made to lift him up bridal style. The cold air blasted Garfield and he shivered as the breeze wafted around the parts of his torso and limbs that were left bare.

He flinched when Wolf's arms wrapped around his back and his legs, and lifted high into the air. The man grunted a little, but smirked at the blushing teen,

"Do you ever eat Pup?" he said as Garfield huddled closer, "You're bloody as light as a feather."

With his ward in his arms, Wolf strode with confident steps out of the bedroom and out into the living area. The room was tidier than Garfield remembered, but the papers and documents were still stacked high. Wolf moved into the cordoned off section of the main living area, and gently knelt down, depositing the weightless teen on the sofa there. He shifted around some of the cushions behind Garfield's back, making it more comfortable for the kid,

"You wait here," Wolf ordered, unhappy that he had just bent over on the whim of an injured teen, "I'll get your breakfast."

He left quickly, realising he was again being paternal over the teen. Garfield just chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the man leave. There were some odd papers lying in front of him on the floor (the coffee table was in the other area) and he picked one up. Wolf was coming back in just as he was skimming over some of the words and phrases.

"Here you go," Wolf said, lowering the mug of tea an plate of toast into the teen's hands, snatching away the paper he was holding as he did so, "I should… probably move… all of… **these**." He grunted each time as he shuffled around the stacks so that they were out of sight from Garfield,

"I know what they are, Wolf," Garfield said, his minor revelation sinking in. Wolf stammered a little,

"You know what are? I don't know what you're on about."

"Those forms," Garfield said, gesturing to the recently hidden pile, "They're fostering documents. I've seen them before, Wolf. More importantly, they're _my_ fostering forms."

Wolf sighed, knowing he'd been caught out. He was going to get everything sorted and organised before he sprung the question on the teen, but obviously that wasn't going to happen now,

"I'm sorry," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I was going to ask, really. But things got in the way… and I wasn't going to do it without your permission…"

"Oh really?" Garfield asked sarcastically, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea, "You don't actually need my permission; I have no say in the matter. You just go ahead, just like everyone else that uses me…" The kid looked rejected, and Wolf cringed on the inside. He was taking this the wrong way,

"True, but that would be heartless. And believe or not, I'm not _that_ cold," Garfield huffed, but Wolf continued, "I don't want to pressure you into anything. You say the word and I'll shred every last piece of paper with yours or my names on it. I want this to be your choice, not mine." He shifted his weight around again, scratching his elbow out of embarrassment, "So… do you want me to foster you?"

Garfield hesitated for a moment, fixing Wolf with a blank stare. Could he allow himself to be fostered? Did he want to be fostered by _Wolf_? The man had made his life miserable at Brecon Beacons, so why the sudden change of heart. To add to that, the last time he'd been fostered – or adopted – had resulted in him being dragged across the globe by a madman who forced him and abused him into doing stupid and impossible things. It wasn't difficult to be sceptical,

"Why?" Garfield said, the one word answer stunning Wolf a bit. The man recovered quickly,

"Because I want to."

"Yes, but _why _do you want to?" The blunt interrogation continued, neither giving in. Wolf and Garfield stared at each other for a few moments before Wolf gave in, glancing away looking for something. He went over to the side, picking up a picture frame. He handed it to Garfield, sitting down on the floor, with his back pressed against the sofa,

"That's my family; all six of my siblings with their partners and children, and both my parents," Wolf explained, pointing to the oldest looking couple on the picture. They certainly looked like Wolf, and Garfield could see he took mostly after his father. His eyes flew across the rest of the picture, taking in the details of all the other groups of people. He could see the resemblance in the relatives, easily picking out three sisters and three brothers. Most of them had kids either in their arms or at their feet, all varying ages.

In the middle, standing nearer to the back was a slightly younger looking Wolf, obscured slightly by some kids in front of him. He was smiling, his arms draped over a few of the children's shoulders, and the picture was a stark contrast to what Garfield had previously thought of him, "All my brothers and sisters are married, each with their own kids. Since we're a big family, it was important to us to set out and make our own place to call home. Now while some of my siblings followed different paths for our careers, I was left at a loss. My eldest sister became a surgeon in America, my eldest brother joined the fire brigade, and my youngest sister is even a psychiatrist! But me; I was stumped as to what to do with my self."

"But you became a soldier. You joined the army, right?" Garfield pointed out, slightly confused as to where this was leading,

"Right," Wolf confirmed, "I joined the army since I had nothing else better to do. But that meant while my siblings were leading extravagant lives and meeting real people, I was stuck out in the Middle East fighting the Taliban. I never got the chance to _really_ settle down, I just came and went, never staying here for more than a few days at a time; I didn't even live here until a few years ago. So I got recruited into the SAS when my brothers and sisters were getting married and having kids. My private life was basically ruined from that moment, and I never got a chance to find someone."

"You said you had an ex?" Wolf growled a little,

"I was getting to that. We met a while back… when she drove into my truck. We fought, we made up, and then we got together. It was great at first, we were open and okay with one another's lives. She told me about her condition, which meant that she couldn't have any children, which I was okay with. I wanted to be a father yes, but that didn't mean I was going to turn away on some petty thing like that; there are other ways to be a dad nowadays. But when I mentioned I'd signed up on the foster care register, she blew a gasket. She ranted and raved about how she personally _never_ wanted kids, and that her condition was a blessing for her." Garfield winced,

"So it ended there?"

"Not quite," Wolf confided, "I was trying to smooth things over with her, but then when you came back into my life everything changed, and I'm not just saying that because it's corny and meaningless. You literally changed my outlook on everything. Suddenly, spending time with her seemed pointless. She hardly cared what happened to me, and only wanted to date the uniform I was wearing and flaunt me off to all her family and friends. So, I dumped her." Garfield raised an eyebrow at Wolf's bluntness, but he continued nonetheless, "So now that she's gone and you here, and what with you needing protection and all-"

"I don't need protecting!" Garfield spluttered indignantly, but Wolf just spoke over him,

"I figured we could help each other out; I foster you and you get somewhere to stay. You don't have to accept if you don't want to…" Garfield took another look at photo, seeing something else Wolf hadn't mentioned,

"You were going to be a godfather?"

Wolf choked, completely taken off guard by the teen,

"What?" he questioned, although it was more of a stammer.

"You were going to be a godfather," Garfield said calmly, pointing at the picture, "You're expression is slightly false, and all the adults look slightly down, although not noticeable. The way you've been placed with the children in the picture and not standing in the order as to how you're siblings have been placed – oldest to youngest – it makes it seem as though there's been an exception. And her," he singled out one of Wolf's sisters, "She's been recently pregnant by about… two months, yet the child at her feet is over three years old. She loses a child and you're out of order… you were going to have a godson or daughter. Why didn't you say?"

Garfield looked confused as Wolf stole the picture, pulling it out of the teen's grip suddenly,

"It doesn't matter."

The air could have been cut with a knife as neither Wolf nor Garfield spoke.

Inside himself, Wolf was furious. Not at Garfield but at himself. He was letting emotions he'd bury deep down come back to surface again. Had he been kidding himself thinking he'd gotten over the grief? That had been over a year ago; he'd had enough time to come to terms with it. So why was he acting like this now?

Garfield watched Wolf with odd fascination. Here was the man that was supposed to be gruff and harsh to anyone weaker than him, yet he was getting caught up in some emotional turmoil. The child (boy or girl) had obviously died, be it a miscarriage or complications after birth Garfield didn't know. But then that meant… Wolf was being _serious_? He really wanted to foster him? Could he do that again; could he really be willing to hand over his independence to the man who had made his life hell? To the man he had looked up to?

"Yes," Garfield said quietly, just loud enough for Wolf to hear. The man glanced up, bewildered and confused. He saw that a single tear had rolled down the teen's cheek, who scrubbed it away quickly,

"Pardon?" Wolf asked, frowning as he hadn't quite heard the teen,

"I said yes," Garfield repeated, "yes, you can foster me… I'm sorry for… for doubting you."

Wolf broke out slowly it the biggest grin Garfield had ever seen the man show. In fact, it was probably the most emotional expressions the teen had ever seen on him. The smile was incredibly infectious, and soon Garfield was beaming along with him, not entirely sure why… maybe it was just one of those moments. What shocked him even more though was the sudden impulse to hug the man;

And he did just that…

Wolf was taken aback when the teen reached out and wrapped his arms briefly, but affectionately around the man's neck. To Wolf, the hug was extremely awkward, but he just sighed and relaxed into the embrace, hugging the teen back slightly. They pulled away after a few short seconds, neither making eye contact, until,

"Breath a word of any of this and I **will **kill you," Garfield said bluntly, fixing Wolf with a stare,

"Likewise," Wolf muttered back in response.

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Garfield and Wolf had sat in the den for a few hours or so just watching TV, enjoying each other's mutual company. It had been an odd sensation to Garfield at first, having someone he once thought he knew take a more vested interest in him, and he especially didn't think it would have been Wolf of all people. But there was just the itching thought in the back of his head that held him back slightly at fully accepting the new roles they'd acquired. The arguments and discussions they'd had all those nights ago… should he just forget about them and move on?

"Wolf?" he slurred as sleep crept in on his mind. The man glanced over at the teen, noting how he yawned slightly,

"Yes Pup?"

"Do you really think I'm just scum; that I'm just a criminal?" The question caught Wolf out; he hadn't been expecting to be confronted so soon. Should he tell the truth or sugar coat a lie? Garfield noticed how Wolf paused in thought, the seconds stretching out into minutes, the only sound the faint murmur of the programme they were watching (it was some daytime infomercial, but h couldn't really tell as he wasn't listening).

"Wolf?" he tried again, searching for an answer. The man sighed,

"Yes…" he said, rather bluntly, "Well, no. I used to, and I really have no idea what kind of stuff you got up to in the past, but I don't anymore. Not really."

"Not really?"

"It's hard… hard to accept that you're innocent wen you aren't. I'll try to understand, but you need to talk to me, and not just hide your feelings away." Wolf pointed out, watching the teen out the corner of his eye for his reaction.

Garfield hesitated himself, unsure as to whether he should tell Wolf about his life or not. He'd told Alex and his frie… _**allies**_ about his life, so why not Wolf. The idea was so implausible to the teen, so he took a breath and was about to begin, but was interrupted before he could utter a single syllable.

A single buzz rang out in the flat, announcing the arrival of someone at the door.

"That'll be them…" Wolf said quickly, as he got up to answer whoever was there. Garfield tried to get up to go with him, wanting to see who the mysterious 'them' were, but Wolf gentle pushed him back down, smiling apologetically at him. He left briskly to open the door, and Garfield could hear the murmurings of voices; two males, one younger than the other, possibly Lion and Tom? Tom had grown close to Garfield, but only out of similarity of experiences in their childhoods. But why would that warrant a visit from Lion then as well? He knew Tom was under guard, for reasons he couldn't quite remember, but surely that didn't mean Lion had to follow in his wake, watching over the teen like a hawk?

So if not Lion and Tom, then who; Alex? It could be him. Yes, Alex and Ben, it had to be them. But what were they doing here…?

Just as Garfield made the deductions, Alex, Ben and Wolf came into the small den area. Ben winced and looked away when he saw the state Garfield was in, but Alex just skimmed over the bandages with a passive yet eerie calmness that worried the technician a little.

"Daniels, Rider-boy," Garfield said in greeting, "What are you doing here?" Wolf answered for them,

"There here to see you; they want to ask a few questions."

"We found something in your bloodstream, and we're just following up the investigation," Alex informed him taking a seat on a stool Wolf brought over. Ben refused to sit, opting instead to stand just behind Alex looking Garfield over. The teen suddenly felt very small; like he was some kind of zoo exhibit, or a scientific specimen trapped underneath a microscope. It was a vulnerable feeling that didn't sit well with him. He felt _weak_.

But Alex had mentioned something about his bloodstream. Could this be the incident that Wolf was referring to earlier? He didn't have much recollection about what had happened; he just remembered a pure blanket of pristine white.

"Do you remember anything about how you ended up like," Alex gestured to the wounds, "_this_?"

"No… should I?" Ben cringed, but covered it up with another apologetic smile. What the hell was going on? What did they know that he didn't?

"Do you remember anything before the blast? Before you were caught up in the explosion?" Alex continued, rather relentless in his questioning. Garfield was confused,

"Blast? What explosion?" It was Alex's turn to wince, but he recovered,

"Do you remember anything at all about Omega?"

'_Omega?'_

'_What the...'_

"What's Omega?"

The two word response made the entire room go silent. Wolf's jaw dropped, unable to comprehend what the teen had just said. He couldn't have forgotten, could he? How can he have forgotten about Omega? Both he and Garfield looked to Ben and Alex with panicked and puzzled expressions. Alex cursed, very colourfully, much to ben's distaste, and stood up and began pacing,

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair angrily pulling at the few strands under his torment, "Damn Omega!"

"What's Omega… what is it?" Garfield repeated, extremely confused. His stomach was churning. He really didn't like this. He felt horrible and he couldn't understand why. What weren't they telling him? What couldn't he remember? He felt cold, isolated and timid all at the same time. He _really _didn't like this…

"What's wrong with him?" Wolf hissed, jabbing a finger at Garfield, "Why can't he remember them?"

"_Because_," Alex hissed back with just as much venom, "he's drugged up on Amnicon, a drug recently invented by a Russian scientist for _selective amnesia_. With a carefully measured dosage and controlled triggers, the drug can wipe a persons mind blank of _anything at all_. He's forgotten everything about Omega, about who they are," Alex turned to Garfield, a furious look in his eyes, "Do you even remember you're encryption key? Do you remember what link you found between Omega and me? Do you remember anything _at all_?"

Garfield shook his head violently, shaking from being shouted at. He couldn't understand, so why were yelling at him? It wasn't his fault, was it? Why was he being referred to in the third person… he was lying right there… His eyes stung with tears. He couldn't cry; not in front of them. But he couldn't leave either; his injuries prevented him from doing so. What could he do, why was he so _weak_?

"Now the entire data is ruined. We can't access it, we can't decrypt it. We've lost." Alex bellowed at no one in particular, "Omega's won."

"Alex, just because he doesn't remember doesn't mean they've outright won. All we have to do is either re-educate him about Omega, or find the trigger to the memories." Ben inputted, trying to calm the frustrated Alex down. Re-education? Trigger? What were they on about? Garfield couldn't take it anymore,

"_I'm right here you know!_" he practically wailed (although, to be fair, Garfield managed to turn it into more of a yell than a cry). A few tears had fallen down his face with out him knowing, and he tried a futile attempt of wiping them away, only to make them look worse. Ben scowled, seeing Garfield n distress,

"Alex; go and wait in the other room. I'll speak with you in a minute," he ordered. Alex just scowled back, but seeing Ben's hard expression made him reluctantly leave the den. Wolf knelt down beside Garfield, who was desperately trying to stem the flow of tears and mucus.

'_I bet I look stupid and weak and disgusting!' _thought, sniffling, _'Why the hell would Wolf want to foster me, some pathetic snivelling scum.'_

He felt something dab at his face, and realised Wolf had brought out a handkerchief from somewhere. He didn't know he carried handkerchiefs, but what shocked him more was that Wolf was helping to wipe away the offending tears, whispering something. Garfield could make out the words; they were Spanish, he could recognise the accent and a few phrases like _Está bien _and _No llores Cachorro_. He felt strangely soothed by the words, feeling like a little child who had just scraped his knee. Was this what it felt like to be _wanted_ by someone; to have a _proper_ father?

"I'm sorry, Garfield," ben said gently as the tears subsided into hiccups, "Alex was just annoyed, that's all. He's had to take on a lot of responsibility over your investigation and the stress is just getting to him."

"What investigation?" Garfield managed to whisper out, his voice a little shaky but otherwise confident now.

"What can you remember _at all_?" Ben asked, much calmer than Alex had been, "Anything at all."

Garfield took a deep breath, stealing himself for his trip down memory lane,

"Parents died when I was born. I got adopted at the age of five by creepy mastermind criminal who trained me into the perfect thief up until the age of ten when I promptly escaped. For the next few years I honed my skills and developed contacts and myself. I became somewhat infamous in the international crime business, and was soon cornered by MI5 and offered a position as an agent, citizenship and a clean record in return for my services. I agreed, and have since then been assigned on numerous missions and projects, most of which are classified even from Alex. That should be about it, right?"

"What about Omega; do you remember who they are?" Wolf probed gently, stuffing the damp handkerchief back into his pocket and settled down next to Garfield, an idle hand stroking over the teen's shoulder.

"Omega sounds _slightly_ familiar, but I'm not sure…" Garfield said hesitantly. He had heard it somewhere before, but where? Why were they so important?"

"Well at least that's something; that means you could possibly recover you're memories," Ben said, sighing in relief, "I'll fill you in. Omega is some kind of criminal organisation that rose to power just after the fall of Scorpia; you remember them, don't you?"

Garfield nodded, "Well, since their fall, Omega has been making various threats and random attacks on different countries, all unlinked. They seem to have some interest in Alex, but we aren't sure. They've managed to infiltrate many different sections of the government, including MI5 and MI6, and have managed to weasel their way into hospitals and schools as well. They could be anywhere at any one time, and we would never know. I'll have a brief prepared for you so you can be filled in on the tiny details, but for now just lay low and stay safe. We can deal with the amnesia when you've sufficiently recovered. Now, If you don't mind, I have a teenage spy to discipline…" he trailed off, whether he was serious or not, Garfield didn't know.

"It wasn't Alex's fault," he piped up; his voice returned to normal, "Don't be harsh on him. If this _Omega_ is as bad as you say they are then I could understand."

Ben nodded in agreement with Garfield, then turned to Wolf,

"I'll just go and talk to Alex, and then we'll get out of your way," Wolf nodded to, still by Garfield's side, "You... err... you keep him safe Tristan." He said, rather awkwardly to Wolf. The man coughed, but nodded as Ben left to go find Alex.

He turned to Garfield, who was slumping back down into the comfortable sofa, his eyelids drooping and his breath ragged. He smoothed out the teen's hair, pulling it away from his eyes and out of the bandages,

"Does it hurt?" Wolf asked softly, feeling the Garfield's forehead. The kid nodded weakly, "I'd better go get the pain killers then; your last shot should be running out around now. You just rest some and I'll be back in a sec."

Wolf stood up, sighing as he watched Garfield fidget around into a more appeasing position in which he could sleep peacefully. Could he cope with looking after an amnesiac teenager with Omega hunting them down?

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Alex was leaning against the wall just outside the bathroom and bedroom, his head in his hands. Ben had his arms folded, and stood there for some time before Alex decided it would be time to break the silence,

"What?" he snapped, tense and angry. Things just weren't going his way,

"Alexander John Rider, don't you dare speak to me like that!" Ben snapped back, less forceful however than Alex. The teen stared at him, summing up Ben's subtle threat before he just sighed dejectedly,

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, "It's just I feel like I'm at a loss. We have no leads whatsoever now, and everyone around me keeps getting attacked and dropping like flies… There's probably no one left who can trust me anymore…"

"I trust you Alex," Ben murmured softly, resting a heavy hand on the teen's shoulder. Alex looked up, only to be faced with Ben's warm smile. "You can't just give up now; you've faced off worse," he joked, trying to inject humour, "Once Garfield gets his memory back – and he _will_ get it back – we can continue searching for answers and get back at Omega for what they've done. It just takes _time_."

Alex grimaced,

"That's time we haven't got."

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Garfield jolted awake again, just on the verge of another nightmare. His whole body was no longer hurting (much) and he felt surprisingly light headed.

He had, somehow, ended back up in Wolf's bed; he must have been brought back after he'd fallen asleep _again_. He could hear a muffle of voices, one belonging to Wolf, the other Garfield wasn't so sure. He pulled himself up with better ease and listened intently. Female, someone who _knew_ Wolf, she'd been here before… a friend? A sister? No, much too boisterous for that; girlfriend. But Wolf said he had an ex… oh…

Garfield glanced at the wall mounted clock. It was only six o'clock… the drugs must really be affecting his timing of things; he felt like he had slept for hours and well into the night. There was going to be a lot that he and Wolf needed to talk about and set straight, like how his pain killers worked or why there was only one bedroom.

Garfield pulled himself up and out of bed, swaying a little on his feet. With no bloody patches on his bandages yet, so he took it as a good sign, and fumbled a little in the dark again. Wolf had drawn the curtains, but it was still relatively light outside. Garfield's foot tapped into something, and the clink of metal brought his attention to a pair of crutches propped up by the desk. Where they for him, or were they someone else's? Were they _Wolf's_?

Shrugging, and seeing no other purpose as to why they were there, Garfield commandeered the crutches and made his way with far greater comfort out of the bedroom, hanging around the corner to the living area to listen in on the conversation. He could make out Wolf's back, but he couldn't see the woman,

"…do you want a brat running around here?" said woman whined, out of Garfield's sight. Wolf huffed,

"He isn't a brat!" he said, defending Garfield, "Pup's just a kid who's in a bad situation…"

"There you go again! Why on Earth do you call him _PUP_? It's as though he's your spoilt little baby; I thought you said he was just some snot-nosed rich kid?" Wolf growled menacingly,

"My opinion of him has hanged. What's it to you, anyway? I dumped you, remember; what are you even doing here?"

"I'm here to give you another chance, my brave Wolfy!" the woman squealed, launching herself at Wolf's arm and clinging for dear life.

'_Wolfy?'_ Garfield smirked, _'I am _so_ going to get a lot of mileage on this one.' _

From his hiding place, Garfield could now see the woman for the first time. He couldn't blame Wolf for dating someone like that; she was astounding. Her hair was of an obscene length, reaching all the way back down past her shoulder blades in giant bouncy curls. Her face was slathered in make-up, but Garfield could tell it was there to hide something, possibly a scar maybe? She was, from what he could tell, also Hispanic, and had large brown eyes that were almost comically huge.

What she was wearing was hardly modest either; a short denim miniskirt and matching jacket that barely covered the tight fitting shirt underneath. Wait… that wasn't here shirt; it was old, yet looked as though she had taken care of it for years. And it wasn't hers. Normally, with a woman like that Garfield would have assumed she'd throw out the clothes she didn't like anymore, or never wear it again. Yet here she was wearing a shirt at least four sizes too big, carefully preserved.

It was… _Wolf's shirt_? Oh dear, she was obsessed…

"I know you weren't thinking straight, so I've decided to give you a fifth chance!" Definitely obsessed; but then why did Wolf keep going back to her? Garfield gave her another look over and nearly face palmed himself. Of course he'd keep going back to her; a soldier away half the time on duty with a beautiful and ever loyal girlfriend at home waiting on his beckoned call? It would seem that Wolf's resolve isn't what it used to be since he'd last met the man.

Garfield could see the doubt and hesitation behind Wolf's eyes. Something was bothering him, conflicting thoughts and emotions. Garfield realised hat Wolf had to make a choice; his ex, or Pup.

The teen decided to at least fight his corner; he'd only just got here and was _injured_. He wasn't going to go down so easily. Childish, yes, but fun all the same to watch Wolf squirm,

"Afternoon," Garfield mumbled, coming out of his hiding place into the conversation. Wolf wheeled round in shock, pushing the woman's clutching arm away,

"Pup!" he exclaimed, "You shouldn't be out of bed!"

"I told you I'd be damned if I was going to stay in there. Not going to introduce us?" the teen gestured at the scowling lady, who was not at all pleased that her scheme to win Wolf back over had been interrupted by a mere child,

"My name's _Natalie Alvarez_," she sneered, "And I suggest you go play doctors and nurses elsewhere, little boy." Garfield's jaw dropped; did she just call him a _'little boy'_? How old did she think he was? He was in flipping bandages here, and all she could do was sneer at him? And the surname… that surely wasn't her name was it? Wolf sighed,

"Pup, this is my _ex_ girlfriend, Natalie _Gallows_. Nat, this is… well you know; Pup. The one I've told you about." Wolf had told her about him?

"Yes, I can see that," she hissed, "What's the matter? Playing with daddy's fireworks?" She motioned to the bandages and scars that scattered Garfield's body.

The teen paled slightly. It wasn't the mocking of _his_ body that was worse, but the fact that she'd brought up his parents. Both of them had died in a fire, and her little 'joke' hurt Garfield deep down with memories he thought he long since forgotten. He turned around, not giving the satisfaction of a remark to the snide woman and went back to the bedroom, not once glancing over his shoulder to see Wolf's enraged face.

Once Garfield left, Wolf snarled at Natalie,

"That was low, Nat," he growled, "That was _really_ low."

"So?" she huffed indignantly, flicking a strand of hair back over his shoulder, "He deserved it."

Wolf just glared at her, watching her fidget and shift around uneasily for a few moments as he made up his mind. The answer was obvious,

"Get out."

She took a step back, unsure whether she'd heard the man correctly,

"I'm sorry…"

"No... Get. Out." Wolf ground out, "Now."

She shook her head, nervously laughing,

"I don't know what you mean, Wolfy. I lov-"

"GET OUT!" he bellowed, and she jumped. She shivered slightly, before coming to realise what Wolf had done,

"Oh, my, God…" he hissed, "You're choosing _him_… over _me_! You sick little freak! How dare you! All these years and you just turn your back because of some snotty pathetic baby?"

"He," Wolf said, pointing a finger in the direction of the bedroom "will be more of a better person than you'll ever be. I would gladly _die_ for him than spend the rest of my life with someone who is manipulative and cruel to children. He was in an explosion, for heaven's sake, and you just belittle him? Where is your sense of decency… your morals?"

She glared at him for a moment, both fixing each other with a stare before she whispered,

"But I lov-"

"Get out." Wolf didn't break his gaze, his voice cold and hard. He was determined now, more than ever, to get rid of this controlling woman. She huffed, marching with heavy stamps to the door, jabbing her middle finger at him as she slammed the door closed.

The flat was filled with silence, Wolf standing there and congratulating himself for being adamant in his choices. His celebrations, however, were short lived as the silence was broken by muffled sniffles.

Wolf turned to head back to the bedroom, hoping that Garfield would be okay. He edged warily into the bedroom, where said teen was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. It was a pitying sight,

"You okay?" Wolf grunted, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder. Garfield just shrugged it off,

"'m fine," he murmured, head still hung low. Wolf sighed, lowering himself down to sit next to the teen,

"Really? Because you certainly don't look like it," he said softly, persisting in putting a hand on Garfield's shoulder, his time the other side. He pulled him into a half hug which Garfield only struggled a little until settling into it, "What she said; it was wrong. She shouldn't have said those things, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Garfield mumbled in response, sniffling a little again, "I could understand why you would pick her over me."

"What are you on about?" Wolf asked, bewildered. Garfield just set him with an absurd look, as though the soldier should know better, his eyes slightly red. It took Wolf a few moments to figure it out, "You think I got back up with her, don't you? And that I can't foster you now," Wolf chuckled warmly, squeezing Garfield's shoulder, "I would never abandon you, okay? _Never_. From now on, I'll be there for you."

Garfield laughed slightly,

"You know that sounds really cliché?" Wolf just grinned again, showing another unusual side of his emotions. A thought struck Garfield suddenly, "If you're on the foster register, then why do you only have a _one_ bedroom flat? And if I'm sleeping in here, then where are you…" his voice trailed off as Wolf scratched the back of his head sheepishly,

"I was only an emergency carer," he said, "I'm saving up, but it's going to take a while; might have saved enough before Christmas… _might_. I'm sleeping on the couch until then. You can have the bed." Garfield shook his head in protest, but Wolf silenced him before he could say anything, "Don't worry about me; I'm not the one who's injured. You can take the bed and by the time you're back on your feet I can get another flat."

"But I have savings in the bank…" Garfield spluttered, amazed at the man's sudden kindness, "I have more than enough…" Wolf shook his head absently,

"Most of that will be ill-gotten money, and I could never accept charity of my ward," he nudged Garfield in his good side playfully, "Besides, since you're being fostered and you're under government law, you can't access that money until for eighteen; four more years for you."

They laughed together, the tension and upset gone from the atmosphere. The teen piped up again,

"You do realise that the only reason I'm acting all emotional is because of those drugs… right? That pain killer and Amnicon stuff, it's making me go a bit weird, right?" Wolf smirked,

"Sure," he chuckled, "Whatever you say."

Garfield scowled, but let it pass. He was sure Wolf wouldn't say anything, but he didn't want to be singled out against K-Unit or any one else.

Another more embarrassing but ever present thought came to Garfield's mind again,

"Wolf?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes?" the man replied mirroring the tone,

"Since you're going to be fostering me and all…" Garfield trailed off, thinking of how to phrase what to say next, before deciding on the blunt approach, "Do I have to start calling you… _'Dad'_?"

Wolf smirked,

"Sure, if you want," he replied, inwardly hoping so. 'Dad' had a nice tone to it, and Wolf actually liked it. He should try encouraging Garfield to call him that… Shaking his head and chortling to himself, he let Garfield out of the hug and stood up,

"I'm ordering take out... probably shouldn't considering your condition, but hey, you only live once. You'll be fine, just get some rest and I'll wake you again when it arrives," Garfield just nodded, getting back into a comfortable position so he could sleep again and speed up his recovery. Wolf glanced back at the teen's settling form before murmuring,

"Ahora estás a salvo, mi Cachorro"

Wolf turned to leave, but he heard the whisper of fluent Spanish follow him out the door,

"Yo hablo español también, papa"

**So there we go; late as per usual.**

**Again, I'm sorry; stuff just gets in the way and before you know five days has gone by.**

**I'm sorry this was a bit mushy as well, but we have to set the scene, don't we?**

**My Spanish is poor, so if you want the translations, I suggest you go to Google, as that's where I got mine. Not very professional, but hey, at least I tried.**

**My biggest concern is whether my Spanish-speaking reviewer Albany won't be too offended by my poor linguistic skills.**

**So, we have new developments; Garfield can't remember (typically ¬_¬), Alex is taking the toll and they're running out of time to figure out what the hell is going on. **

**Next chapter I promise will be more entertaining than this one. This was a filler chapter, and was initially going to be part of chapter 16. But obviously not…**

**Preview: Tom, Alex and… a double date? Wait and see…**

**Next person to review will be my 100****th**** reviewer, by the way, and therefore to celebrate such an achievement (it being my first!) I will dedicate to the next chapter to the 100****th**** reviewer, tough luck to those who just miss it. If I get 110 reviews, Ill dedicate the chapter to all 10 of you, but I fear I might be pushing it.**

**Thanks – K9**


	18. Distractions

**K9 here - Sorry about the delay; I've been busy with odd jobs earning money. Damn me and my need for material possessions! **

**So I tried to keep this as long as possible, but it **_**is**_** short…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, but I do own all of my own characters and plot.**

**In response to reviews:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Congrats, you were number 100. This chapter's for you… I tried to make it memorable. I'll try to keep the ratio of mushy to action chapters as equal as possible. I should really give warnings with these things… Thanks for the review, and for all your other long term reviews as well. I think you've reviewed nearly each chapter, and it always seems that you have welcomed and constructive comments about the story. So thanks for them as well.**

**Mazken: Thanks for your review, and yes, it probably is safer if Eagle doesn't have a child… ¬_¬ *cough* Plots have many twists… I also like to point out that Ben can think that he's 'disciplining' Alex, but we all know that's impossible. So don't take it as punishment, more as advising…**

**Albany: I love exploring emotional ideas; the concept it's highly appealing to me as a writer, other than just the action and the adventure. I have to use a Google translator for my Spanish dialogue, so I was worried that there may be some mix up in translation and you might feel I was only doing a half-hearted attempt, so yeah… no offense. Thanks for the review, and I hope you keep reading!**

**Sapphire2309: MWHAHA :D I don't mean to be, but plot twists are just SO much fun! I would never kill Blue… for now… just kidding… or am I? No, I'm kidding, I'm not THAT cruel. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Iamawsome: Glad to now Chapter 17: Garfield was one of your favourites; it's one of mine. Also, it's good to see that you've made my story one of your favourites. Thank you, it means a lot to me. And to everyone else who has made it a favourite as well or subscribed to story or author alerts, I thank you too.**

**Monkey DeRanged: An interesting idea, and an idea that I certainly have a plot for. I shall begin drafting it immediately, and wonder if anyone will favour this as well. I'll make a note at the bottom of this chapter, and message me your interest for a Wolf/Garfield relationship story. It would, however, have to be after this story, possibly set between this one and… its sequel. Thanks.**

**Leokoni: (BY FAR THE MOST HEART WARMING REVIEW EVER SO MUCH SO I AM WRITING THIS IN CAPITAL LETTERS SO EVERYONE READS THIS) Wow… just wow. **

**That actually really made my day, let alone yours; I doubt the world will suddenly grow dark and we'd fall into an apocalypse simply because I stop writing (which I don't intend on stopping), but the sentiment and metaphor was nice! I have much more lined up; it's just a matter of spewing the nonsensical trash onto my computer and going from there. (Plus, ReillyScarecrowRocks might get cross, but I'll give you joint dedication of this chapter. But shush! He must never know… =.= )**

**Here's Chapter 18: Distractions**

**(Note: the chapter takes place a few days later after the events of Chapter 17: Garfield)**

_Yesterday:_

_**Plz?**_

_No_

_**Y not?**_

_Because I said so__ Alex sighed, chucking the phone on his bed. He was angry at many things; Ben, MI6 and MI5, Omega, Blue. Everything was a bloody mess, and they all expected Alex to clear it all up with a wave of his magic wand._

_Mrs Jones and Mr Silver were pressuring him, demanding results he just couldn't give, Omega were the cause, Blue couldn't remember a damn thing and then Ben had the nerve to go and try and act all parental on him, and scolded him! He was the highest ranking spy, for God's sakes, and yet that man thought he was better than him? _

_His mobile buzzed again, announcing another of Tom's inane texts. He'd been pestering Alex since this morning with a plan he'd come up with, but Alex was having none of it; he had far more important issues to worry about than Tom's entertainment. He sighed again, snatching up the phone from where it lay,_

_**BUT Y?1? **__Alex groaned_

_Tom! I don't hav the time! I'm caught up wiv the bank & stuff, so no!__ No response came, and Alex thought he'd finally heard the last of it. Finally, he could settle down, possibly do some work, or go to sleep. His phone decided otherwise, and vibrated loudly again in his hand. Alex practically growled,_

_**So? It'll b gud! U get a break, &we get d8!**_

_Y do I hav 2 go? Can't u & Mel jst go by urselves?_

_**Wat bout Ella, she's came bak 2day. Omega apprntly the house. + we cant go on our own, we need protection!**_

_Alex frowned at the message. Ella was back? She was supposed to stay with relatives up in Scotland away from London and possibly Omega. But now that just ruined things… They were at her _grandparent's house as well!_ Alex cringed inwardly; he simply couldn't catch a break!_

_Alex's control over the situation was melting away. Maybe Tom's idea of a double date might help to calm his nerves._

_No! He couldn't be reckless. Alex mentally slapped himself for slipping back into his old mind-set, that if he just ignored things, then they'd just leave him alone and go away. Omega was omnipotent, so he couldn't dare to turn his back now. They'd gotten close, but Alex wasn't going to give them hat chance again._

_The answer's NO Tom. Not in 10000 years_

_**But Alex… Plz? I'll make it up to u!**_

_No Tom… watevr u say won't make me change my mind. U can't talk me into this!_

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_Present:_

"I can't believe you talked me into this…" Alex grumbled, pulling his jacket a little further around his cold frame.

It was about seven in the afternoon, possibly later but Alex had neglected to wear his watch. Clouds had drifted overhead, and the city plunged once again into another summer storm. The cold bit at his fingers and face, edging into his aura of warmth. Tom and Alex were huddled under a bus shelter, the only form of protection from the icy tendrils of rain as they awaited the arrival of their significant others.

Tom grinned manically at Alex, which only made to irritate the teen spy further. Since when could Tom be so manipulative?

A taxi pulled past, slowing down to a near stop. Alex assumed it was their girlfriends, as he could see a teenage girl inside the cab, but just as Alex approached the taxi sped off, splashing him with muddy water. He cursed, shaking as much of the filthy liquid off as possible as he shouted profanities at the distant cab. Tom was laughing his head off behind him, but Alex could have cared less. A sudden thought struck him, and it took a few moments to process what he was thinking.

"You alright, Al?" Tom chortled as he finally calmed down, "You look like a drowned rat!"

Alex joined Tom back under the haven of shelter in the bus stop, but his head was spinning. Tom prodded his shoulder idly,

"Al, you okay? Water didn't get into your brain, did it?" Alex shook his head, mystified,

"I think I just saw… never mind. When are they going to get here?"

"Any minute now," Tom replied, glancing at his watch, "They're probably just caught up in traffic or something…"

Sighing, Alex shuddered as the cold permeated through his thin jacket. He should have worn maybe a jumper underneath like Tom, but Ben was doing the laundry, and Alex had his room raided by the man and relinquished of all dirty articles of clothing. If _only_ he'd hidden at least one fleece he wouldn't be in this state.

"Hello boys," came a sultry voice from behind Alex, and the two teens gazed in awe at their dates. It was Ella who had spoke, with Mel jabbing her playfully,

"Can't you just behave?" she asked moving over to swoon over Tom, who lapped up the attention like a thirsty dog. Ella smirked, sauntering her way up to Alex,

"Behave; with Mr tall, dark and handsome over here? Who can?" she leered, reaching her arms around Alex's shoulders. The teen spy had the decency to flush profusely, coughing,

"Ella! We're in public," he said, eyes flitting around, "We can't talk about my _other_ job." She smiled innocently,

"But of course, _Alex_," she giggled, "Random people are just going to start attacking us _yet again_ on our second date. That would be a terrible track record for you." Alex set his girlfriend with a stern gaze, and she just laughed harder, "I was only kidding!"

Tom coughed from behind them all, attracting all their attention,

"Shall we, ladies?" he asked in a mock posh accent, motioning in the direction down the road towards their destination. With Mel still swooning over Tom, and Ella irritating the hell out of Alex, they headed down to the cinema to see One Day. **(Which I will probably never see… I wanted to say Super 8, but not very romantic)**

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The film, in Alex's opinion had been lacking; whether that was because he expected more or not, or just wasn't that much into normal teenage activities anymore he would never know. But, if it meant that Ella – in the disaster that was Omega – was happy, then Alex was happy. She needed time away from the attacks and the danger, but being around Alex only served to amplify those scenarios. She wanted to be with him, and Alex desperately wanted to be with her; hell, with _anyone_ who wouldn't walk out on him at the first signs of trouble. Sabina had persevered, but there is only so much one person can take before they reach their limit and break.

Alex just hoped that Ella's limit was as high as her optimism and her outlook on life. If that was the case, then Alex had nothing to fear.

But fear was what kept Alex alive.

The dark, brooding fear of Omega still churned deep within him, pressing into his thoughts. He barely focused on the movie because his mind was reeling with possibilities, which lead to questions, then answers, then yet more possibilities. Maybe that was why he didn't enjoy the film as much as the others did.

They sat inside a café, just down the road from the cinema theatre, warming their numb fingers with mugs of hot chocolate. The three other teens happily chatted with each whilst Alex stared absently out the café window, out onto the grimy wet streets of London.

He reflected back that only a few weeks ago he had been strolling along the Californian cost with – whom he had thought at the time – one of his only true friends (next to Tom, of course). He supposed he could hardly blame Sabina for what had happened, but something just didn't sit right within his judgement. Now that he was part of the Omega investigation and understood their workings, the murder of Sabina's parents seemed out of place. The Gentleman had been hired to kill them, with strict instructions and an ominous message from the secretive organisation. Then Blunt turns up, out of the blue with more eerie warnings and ramblings of doom and hopelessness. He too was murdered by Omega, an unknown mole within the agency. Yet, not a few days later, another attack with yet more hired assassins to try and take Alex's, with a reckless and assuming plot of poison. A third attack on Alex, with a fanciful and extravagant plot to destroy him in the London Eye. Then Tom, then Garfield… none of it made sense…

Alex winced in guilt; everyone around him was suffering because of his inept ability to protect them. Several times he had to rely on others – be it Garfield, Ben, Snake… whoever – to pull him out of the firing line. How many lives had he ruined so far? He'd stopped counting after fifteen.

"_Isn't that right, Alex?"_

Yet somehow, he and his friends were still here; albeit they changed every now and again, and his allies varied from situation to situation. Ben, Blue, Mrs Jones, heck even Yassen Gregorovich on one occasion… it all depended on where he was and who was trying to kidnap or kill him this time.

"_Alex?"_

In this case, it was Omega, a common found enemy it would seem. But they had proven themselves resourceful, and quite threatening. Alex was sure that if they wanted to, they could have one of their operatives waltzed right in and up to their table and kill himself it they thought it would get them anywhere. Hell, they probably could fill the entire café with operatives and burn the place to the ground; their affinity with fire was most distressing…

"Alex?"

A faint, cold catching touch against his own startled Alex out of his deep thought. Blinking, trying to recall murmurs of the conversation as all three teens were staring at him with mixed expressions. Try as he might, he could not think of what the talk might have been about,

"Sorry, what was that?" he inquired. Tom snickered,

"I was just telling the girls that you're back in black. You know… Royal and General?" Alex scowled dangerously,

"We promised not to talk about that in public," he growled in a low voice, his voice echoing in the near empty bistro, "You know what kind of trouble it could get me in."

"You need to relax, Alex," Ella drawled, an arm snaking its way across the short gap and entwining with his, "I know that _**they**_are dangerous and everywhere, but we've got you, so we're okay!"

"But that's it!" Alex snapped, yanking his arm free of Ella's grasp, "You're always relying on me! I'm the one who has to always save the day and stop the impossible enemy and their dastardly plan. So, while you're all _relaxing_ while I'm around to protect you, what am I supposed to do; stand guard and sit back at the same time? Because that seems to be my life right now; trapped between you and _**them**_."

Alex slammed a hand down on the table in frustration, the mugs and spoons clattering slightly. Mel and Ella flinched back on impact, but Tom frowned at Alex,

"We're always in danger Al; we always have been. If _**they**_ are everywhere, then wherever we go we'll always be in danger, and you can't be in two, three – even four places at the same time. I figured that if hey really wanted to kill us, they would have done so ages ago by now," Tom stood up, throwing a few pound coins on to the table that rang out with a patter of metal, "That should be enough to pay for mine and Mel's chocolate. I'll see you around Alex, and the next time I do, I don't want to hear any crap about being responsible for everyone's safety. We can look after ourselves you know; you've been away awhile. Come on, Mel, Darren's got me on a set curfew for ten o'clock; I've got to get you home first. You coming Ella, or are you staying with 'I-have-to-do-everything' man?"

Mel stood up, smiling apologetically at Alex and joining Tom. Ella's gaze flicked between Alex and the two standing teens, unsure of whether to stay or not. She sighed,

"It's alright," she said, waving them away, "You guys go on ahead, I need a minute with him."

She turned back, just as Tom and Mel left the quiet café. Alex stared blankly at their backs, watching them head down the road and further out of sight. They didn't understand the risks; what the costs were at the end of the day. They should never have gotten involved in the first place. They should have led their normal lives with their normal families. Yes, Tom's had been dysfunctional, Ella's were terrifying and Mel's just plain mysterious, but normal all the same. They had never been teenage spies throwing their lives on the line in the name of Queen and country.

"Alex," Ella began, allowing for a pregnant pause as she watched Alex's cool reaction, "I don't think I could begin to understand what's going on, and frankly I'm not sure I want to know; but what you're doing right now is pushing people away. How can we help you-"

"I don't need your help!" Alex snapped irritably, "I'm fine…"

His wandering gaze drifted back out onto the street outside, the window streaked and blurred with rain. Ella watched Alex, thinking of what to say or do without provoking another confrontation like that.

The spy's eyes fell upon the vague outline of someone standing from across the street. They didn't move; not a muscle. They stood facing the café he and Ella were in, watching. They wore a long raincoat, buttoned up to the top and Alex could barely make out any distinguishing features. It was a girl that much he could tell. Maybe a teenager; she was incredibly slim, but Alex had a hard time through the obscured window pane.

Could she be Omega? Was this another attack, and so soon?

Just as Alex's heart began hammering in his chest, the figure abruptly turned and began walking away, not at a hurried pace but with some gusto. Alex frowned to himself, not realising his face was copying his thoughts. Ella noticed, glancing in the direction he was looking, she too following the girl. She smirked,

"Looking at other ladies now, are we Alex?"

Alex was too preoccupied to reply. His head was swimming with thoughts, theories. She couldn't' be here. It wasn't possible. She was supposed to be…

"Get your coat."

"What?" Ella asked bemused and shocked at Alex's sudden authority, his voice laced with doubt and worry. Something had broken his usual calm demeanour,

"I said, get your coat," he repeated, "And come one."

With one fluid motion, he was out of his chair, a few pound coins dancing along the table top as he paid for the remaining beverages and pulled on his jacket. He was going to get soaked to the bone, but he could worry about core temperature later; he had to catch that person, whoever she was.

Ella hastily followed in tow, nodding and apologising to the bewildered and gormless café staff before chasing after Alex. He leapt out onto the pavement, nearly bowling a rotund man over. He didn't apologise, leaving the man splashing in a muddy puddle, ruining his suit. A string of profanities snag out to Alex but he ignored them, and carried on running in the general direction he saw the girl leave in. Ella nearly bumped into him as he came to an abrupt halt,

"Alex! What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, her hair beginning to get damp from the pouring rain, "What's the matter?"

He ignored her as well, his eyes scanning the milling crowd on the wet and puddle-ridden road. She _had_ to be here. There was nowhere else she could have gone!

Alex waltzed off again, choosing a random but probable direction the girl would have headed. Ella stumbled to keep up as he set at a pace caught between a sprint and a jog.

Where was she?

He watched left and right, searching, seeking for the girl in the raincoat.

There!

He caught the tiniest glimpse of her coat falling behind an alleyway. He flew towards it, Ella barely keeping up with his long powerful strides.

"Alex!" she called out as he pulled ever so slightly ahead and down the narrow passage, "Where are we going? What's wrong?"

Her words were lost in the patter of rain, the noise drowning out her voice, but she doubted that was because he didn't answer. He was occupied with something; she pondered whether this was how he always got when he went into some kind of spy mode. She wormed her way down the filthy passage, her feet stamping on soggy cardboard and catching against overflowing bin bags.

The alleys were the veins of London city; they ran right across the urban plane. Ella rarely ventured down them; her father had told her to steer clear of them at all costs. The homeless and the rejected lived down in the alleys, half the population hidden in grime and dirt away from public eyes. She felt sorry for the poor souls who were trapped in these lives, with no way out and no reprieve, but the prospect of running through rotting alleyways repulsed her. But what about Alex? She had to keep up…

Alex, meanwhile, had ploughed through the rubbish and waste, having experienced worse. He was losing her! He vaulted over a stack of boxes, darting around strewn bins and weaved between rotting debris of God knows what. Ella was grumbling her dislike behind him, but he didn't listen. He didn't have _time_ to listen.

They burst out onto a deserted road, no pedestrians in sight in the misty sleet. Alex span around, his eyes blazing with anticipation and anxiety for the girl in the raincoat. She couldn't have just disappeared; had she come this way? Had she been hiding back in the alley? Had she gone down the alley at all?

"Alex, please… stop," Ella panted breathlessly as she took a moment to catch her bearings, hands supporting her weight as she doubled over from exertion, "What the hell… is wrong?"

"Where is she?" he muttered, underneath his breath, still ignoring Ella, "Where the hell could she be?"

Grey, drab buildings rose up behind them, and on the other side of the road were houses that had obviously seen better days and an old dilapidated church, the once pristine chapel now in ruins, closed off by boarded fences. Alex saw for a fraction of a second, in the corner of his eye a small flick of a coat, just as it disappeared through a crack in the fencing.

"Gotcha," he murmured, sprinting his way over to the gap between the fences, shuffling his way inside.

"Alex…" Ella called out warily, unsure whether she should go with him into the cordoned off building, "I don't think…"

But he was gone before she could continue. He was making a habit of that; she'd have to as something. What was _wrong_ with him today? First he's distant, then he snaps and now… now he's chasing after random people through the narrow streets of London. Fearing more for his safety then her own, she followed through with him, her slender form fitting easily through the gap made by Alex's more moderately muscular frame.

Thunder clapped overhead, the deep baritone rumble echoing through the eerily derelict church grounds. There were crumbling headstones and broken crosses. The sight was vulgar; a scene straight from a horror film where a layer of mist would seep down and envelope the graveyard. The building itself seemed to only be kept upright by the enormous and imposing scaffolding around it; some construction had gone on in the past, but not anymore. Maybe it was because of the recession? Maybe it was forgotten, an old, beautiful church lay bare to the elements because some man behind a desk lost interest.

Another bolt of thunder, this time just set in the distance behind the chapel, casting a wicked and shimmering shadow momentarily over the ground, the tendrils of gloom reaching across to the two teens. There stood huge spires atop the roof, one at each end. The furthest was the smallest, under appreciated by its taller brother. Elongated and cracked windows were embedded along its walls, half missing the coloured shards that once made up there intricate display. The entire scene looked like a light breeze could send it crashing down to Earth, the brickwork mottled and scarred. Ella hoped with all her heart that Alex didn't decide to have another funny turn and venture into it…

She was frightened, to say the least, but Alex stood as solid as a rock next to her, his feet planted firmly to the spot. She could sense the tension, his face cold and hard.

His gaze was set sternly on something, and Ella's eyes flicked to the retreating figure, smudged by the rain. The figure slipped in through an ornate timber door that hung uselessly open on a single rusty hinge.

He whispered something, the sound lost over the roar of more thunder. He seemed to be hesitating now; his mind conflicted with different decisions.

'_Could this be a trap?'_ he thought, biting his bottom lip in concentration, _'I'm just imaging things, aren't I... But she looked so similar! It couldn't be…'_

Once more, he abruptly set off, at a much warier and slower pace, his steps gliding across the rocky and muddy ground towards to church doors. He had come to a decision, albeit a reckless one, but he had made up his mind; he had to know. Was she really who he thought she was?

Inside the dilapidated church, a whole new story played out. The interior was magnificent, lacking certainly in areas, but far better than what had been on the outside. Ella gasped,

"Oh my…" The two words were enough to display her awe; Alex agreed, it was an interesting spectacle compared to the outside. The window, although cracked and bare were clean and well kept, wooden boards patching up the empty holes. The pews were made of a fine wood, polished and shining in the candles that lay scattered about the place haphazardly. Dancing flames flickered all across, some high up on ledges, others even on the floor. There was a thick layer of wax occasionally, where candles must have been placed before, and soft delicate cushions of fine woven silk dotted a pew or so.

At the far end of the church, the altar stood, preserved in a beam of light coming from some unknown illumination. It was, in a cliché standard, godly and holy, the light reflecting off the metal cross that stood atop its clothed surface. Tapestries hung down from the ceiling, all the way to the dusty floor. The fabric was heavy to the touch, weighing a considerable amount. Each one depicted various famous scenes from the Bible, but all relatively the same. Certain individuals picked out with glowing halos of gold and others left to the sides, darkened and faded by shadows.

"'Church of Ingrid Aarons'" Ella spoke aloud, drawing Alex's attention momentarily. The words echoed throughout the deserted church, reverberating off the huge brick walls and wooden panelling.

"What?" Alex inquired, finally giving in and allowing himself a distraction and turning to face Ella,

"That's what it says on the book…" she hefted up one of the thick bibles, showing the cover for Alex to see. There, in silver emboss was the name of the church: 'Church of Ingrid Aarons'. Something was wrong about it though, it looked to new and neat. Surely a book such as this would be repeatedly used by congregations… but the church was in ruin so that wasn't plausible. So with no church-goers, why then did the parish need new bibles such as these? It made no sense, just like a lot of things… including the girl.

Alex spun around, searching for where the girl could have gone. The main entrance was behind them, so she couldn't have slipped past; a backdoor, perhaps? There was always one in these kinds of places, but why then com to an abandoned enclosed church just to evade pursuers?

Could this girl have been going back to Omega, to report back in?

Alex shook his head; that was stupid. Why would a teenage girl work for Omega? The idea was preposterous. But, then again, MI6 had sued Alex, and then MI5 with Garfield; would it be too far fetched to assume Omega could do that as well? They certainly sank low enough, nothing seemed impossible to them.

Along the dirty floor there were light, wet imprints of where footsteps had once walked. They led down the aisle, but off the side, just behind the pulpit. The stone of the platform was carved and chiselled into the shape of an eagle, menacingly looking as though it would come to life and leap out at the crowd that surely would have gathered there. Alex tentatively sneaked around, peering around the immense stone. A side door led off from there, the footsteps showing that the person had gone through. He walked over to the door, gently pushing against, seeing if it would give. Luck for him, it was unlocked, and clicked open off its lock,

"Alex, I don't think we should be doing this…" Ella complained once more, hanging over Alex's shoulder to see what he was doing. The spy raised a finger to his lips, silently asking Ella to keep quiet. She huffed, but complied, and the two crept into the small room that was now open to them.

The dust stopped, the room was carpeted but fairly clean. Alex needn't have worried however, as the footsteps continued, this time as soggy outlines in the fabric where droplets had fallen. Although both teens were wet too, it seemed that inside this area of the church the heating was on, which again was odd; an abandoned church with heating?

Many doors adjoined to the room, which was practically bare save for a few paintings of random scenery that adorned the walls. Alex motioned for them to try the doors, to see if they led anywhere. Ella tried the door to where the footsteps led to, catching on to whom Alex was searching for. The door, unfortunately, was locked and jammed tight. It wouldn't budge. Alex tried a few of the doors that ran along the far said, but they too were locked.

One door remained, and Ella gingerly twisted the handle, hearing the recognisable click as the tumblers opened. The door swung open, revealing a dark, bare brick passage that looked as though it had been dug out of solid rock. Lights were drilled into the ceiling, casting soft illumination down into the tunnel-corridor. Alex and Ella shivered as cold, stale air rushed to meet them, blasting their faces with musty aromas. It was as if the church was going through different ages; old on the outside, with one new room, then an old one and now an ancient tunnel. What was going on in this place?

They were about to brace themselves and set down the newly found corridor before a voice calmly asked behind them,

"What are you doing here?"

The two teens whirled around in surprise. A bald man in a blue robe faced them, his hands clasped in front of him, a crucifix attached to an itchy string around his neck. He wore a pair of round spectacles which were perched just on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall off. It looked meek, almost timid, but he had an air of command to him, one that made people bow in respect as they passed. It was clear to any normal person that this man was a monk, most likely one of the church which must have still been open, just closed off. But Alex had a doubt about him; he had snuck up on him without making a sound. Either Alex was losing his touch or the man was more than he seemed.

"I'll ask again; what are you two doing here? This is private property, no one is allowed inside," he demanded again, addressing the two directly, "If you shan't leave now then I will call the Police. We do not want any harm or trouble; please leave peacefully."

It sounded false, to Alex, like a script. When did a church become 'private property'? Weren't they supposed to be open to the public? Alex didn't know, but something seemed fishy about the monk. Ella, however, had taken a more passive approach,

"We're sorry, Brother," she said softly apologising, "But we came here searching for our… _friend_," She ground out the word 'friend' with a threatening glare sent subtly to Alex, "Have you seen her?"

"No," the monk blurted out quickly, "There is no one here except the monks and nuns. Leave now, please."

'_There goes the script'_ Alex thought, "But we're sure she went this way. Are you absolutely certain that you didn't see her go by?"

"NO!" the monk shouted, pulling the two teens' shoulders with startling force and dragging them back into the main hall and out through the front entrance, "Now leave and don't come back!"

The one useless wooden door was swung shut with a slam, bolts being slid into place and a barricade of wooden slotted down. Primitive locks, but working all the same; Alex doubted they'd be going back in there again any time soon. That monk was strange. He had used force – _violence_ – to throw them out physically. Alex didn't realise monks could do that. Maybe he was just being narrow-minded, but there was something In the back of his head that screamed danger and made him want to get up and run as far away as possible from this seeming threat,

"That was… unusual," Ella summed up in a matter-of-fact tone, "Any ideas as to _what the hell is going on?_!" Alex seemed mesmerised by the derelict church; his eyes glazed over in deep thought. The rain was pelting down now, pattering in muddy pools across the cemetery. He took a moment to consider what to say, before looking at her directly with empty brown eyes and uttering two cold words,

"Sabina Pleasure."

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Alex and Ella were wandering down the Thames, fleeting memories of the burning Ferris wheel coming back to them in glimpses. The church had long since been left behind, but Alex devoted its whereabouts to memory, its name etched in his mind. First Omega, and now a girl he thought was Sabina following him? As if his life couldn't get anymore peculiar.

"So what you're saying is that you _think_ you're seeing your ex again; that adopted sister of yours?" Ella questioned for the eighth time, "How can you be sure?"

"I can't," Alex answered truthfully. He frowning, "But I swear I saw her; she was in this taxi that pulled up then sped off, and then again at the café. She may have appeared a few times more, but I can't be certain…." His voice trailed off, leaving his thoughts unsaid. Ella huffed in disbelief,

"But how do you know it was Sabina and not just some other random girl; maybe she might even be Omega! You never know these days!" Alex sighed,

"Call it a hunch or whatever, but I _saw_ her," he insisted. Ella shook her head,

"Okay, so let's say that, hypothetically speaking, it _was_ Sabina. What would she be doing in England? I mean, her parents were just brutally murdered not a week ago yet suddenly she's decided to abandon the place she grew up in and all her loved ones just to stalk you. Doesn't that seem a little absurd to you?"

Alex sighed again, knowing he would have a hard time proving himself to Ella. He looked out over the river, the murky waters disturbed by the trickle of rainwater. The surface ebbed and swayed as the water was pushed along, the wind occasionally picking it up and carrying it faster and further than necessary. It wasn't exactly a terrifying gale, but the chills and gusts were enough to be classed as a storm.

Further up along the bank, there was a fenced off section of the promenade where burnt remains lay scattered still; the weather prohibiting any work to be done. Alex could still smell the acrid smoke, the burning in his chest; he took slow calm breaths, quelling the memory of the raging inferno. It was just another sentiment that he had failed in his duties.

"It's not just her though, is it?" Ella asked, tugging on her boyfriend's sleeve, "There's something else that's bothering you. What is it?"

Alex took a moment to gain his composure, turning out to face the turbulent waters, leaning against the frigid dripping safety rails,

"It's about everything," he started cryptically, "About Ben and where we're at, about Omega and what the hell is going on, about Blue-"

"Who's Blue?" Ella interrupted.

"Garfield," Alex chided, as though it were obvious, "You heard how he lost his memory?" Ella nodded in the affirmative, "Well, it just seems when I think I'm taking a huge step in the right direction, everything changes. He finds some useful clue, and then Omega gets to him. I learn secrets from Blunt, and then he gets killed. I get along fine with Ben as his friend then suddenly he thinks I'm some child who needs scorning," Alex rubbed his face with his numb hands, the cold whipping through his forehead and cheeks, "Nothing makes sense anymore; I used to be able to do this and now… now it's like I've been taken out of the loop. Like everybody knows something I don't. I don't know what to do…"

Ella leant next to Alex, her arm wrapped loosely around his. She listened plaintively, taking in each revealing detail. When he was finished, she tucked her head against his shoulder, his warmth seeping through his jacket and into her body,

"Well, I'm not exactly an expert at this, so I can't be like Garfield and give super analytical and creepy advice," Alex chuckled slightly, "But what I can tell is that you should try and deal with one thing at a time. To me, I would forget Blunt; he doesn't sound that important anymore. Forget Sabina too; if she shows up again and you have solid evidence that it's definitely her, and then take more notice. Until then, I would focus on Omega, not Ben. I've known him for a while, and he's not the man to just walk away from someone he cares about." Alex looked down at her, hiding the astonishment from his face,

"You think he really cares about me?" he asked quietly, his voice only audible to Ella over the still booming thunder,

"Yes silly," she said, flicking him on the nose to which he scowled indignantly, "For a teenage spy you really are blind. But that's not the point. The point is, is that you can sort things out later with Ben; he's not going to abandon you. Omega is the main concern; find them and kick their ass for me, would you? I don't think I like the idea of them spying on my gran."

Alex smiled, thankful that someone had finally provided some kind of solution to him. Albeit, it was risky, and probably would never come to, but it was a start. He could never push all his problems away and sweep them under the rug to deal with later, but what Ella said made sense, in a manner of speaking. The only flaw was, was that each issue was connected; to sort one out he must solve another.

His guardianship with Ben; would that continue even after Omega, or would that flummox and fall flat? Would Ben still want him around? He had only been placed there as a security purpose, but Ben had acted as though he were taking the role seriously. Half the time, he was friendly and equal, the other half he was acting paternal and responsible; it was confusing as to what the man was feeling. If he dealt with Omega, what would happen between him and Ben?

But in order to even combat Omega, Alex had to understand their motives and intelligence about them. Garfield held the key, but he was incapacitated, his memory wiped. He needed to make the teen remember at least the encryption key. That would mean Alex could at least look at the accumulation of data Garfield had managed to ascertain.

However, trying to make him remember was another matter; could he find the trigger; the single concept that could revive his memories, even just a small portion to recover the information? Omega must have placed something in the teen's head to hide the memories. It would have to be relevant, otherwise the trigger would be rendered useless; the Omega symbol, perhaps? Or maybe a phrase or code word?

Alex's thoughts drifted from Garfield to Sabina and Tom. His once two best friends who had now been desecrated by Omega forces, both of them lost their parents. It was Alex's past that had roped not only him into this mess, but them as well. He could barely suppress the guilt that verged on the teetering edge to consume him. The only reprieve he could have was that he had not been the one to wield the knife, and nor was it he who ordered their execution, and that now he could do nothing to bring them back. Alex could live with the horrors of killing someone, but indirectly hurting someone close to him was indescribable. Ben hadn't even noticed his whimpering nightmares; he seemed to overlook Alex's sleep unless the teen spy was kicking and screaming in turmoil.

It was, then, he sworn duty to bring Omega to its knees. It was the only way to have a respite from the depression of subjecting his friends to pain and suffering. So far, he had kept the damage to a minimal as best he could; Sabina was, supposedly, in America with her grandparents, Tom – and Garfield were now under close protection and Mel had up to now remained unscathed. It would seem she was just out of Omega's radar for the time being, but Alex worried if she would ever sway into their territory.

"I'm sorry about Garfield, by the way," Ella spoke softly, her hands idly tracing path through Alex's palm, "I know how hard it must be for both he and you. It was just horrible how he got so close."

"How do you know about that?" Alex asked, shocked that Ella had managed to acquire privy information about the teen technician. She smiled sheepishly blushing a dark red,

"I overheard Dad…" she murmured, burying her head further under Alex's chin. He sighed,

"Fine…" conceding that she knew the situation, "It's just so frustrating; he got close, but we don't know how close and with what. He could have found out their identity for all we know."

"Do you think he'll remember?"

"Maybe…" Alex didn't sound so sure of himself, hesitancy in his voice, "But we have to try; without him the investigation is grinding to a halt. All the data is encrypted by his unique coding and we can't access any of it _at all_. And he's our only hope. For once in my career, it would seem I am yet again waiting for someone else to come up trumps."

The wind picked up a little, Alex's jacket flapping against his chest and Ella as she clung to him. The rain was still petering down, and didn't show any sign of stopping soon. The weather, for Alex, reflected his mood, reflected the _entire_ situation he was caught in. Storms were brewing on distant shores, but for now Alex had the mercy of calm and quiet. How long would it be before Omega struck again? And who his time; Mel had been ignored, but what if they tried another attack on Alex? Or what about Ella's relatives; were they safe? What about Ben's brothers, or Wolf's siblings, or any of K-Unit?

How long could the calm last?

"Alex…" Ella whispered her voice quiet as though reading his thoughts, "If something bad happens, to you, or me or anyone else… I love you…"

"I love you too…" he mumbled back, reaching down and kissing her. The few moments they touched sent shards of heat through Alex's body, battling away the freezing air and icy rain that surrounded them.

They broke the kiss and continued looking out over the Thames. Alex's eyes were set with determination; he would defeat Omega. He _had_ too.

**And so there we have it; sorry it's shorter than usual, but I had a hard time writing this one. Not much goes one except Sabina and a little drama. A request was made a while back for Sabina to be reintegrated back into the plot, but I'll leave you t be the judge of that; I've left subtle little hints have I not… :D**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, and those who have subscribed to alerts and whatnot; it's a joy writing for you. **

**Just as note from above: **

**Monkey DeRanged has suggested a side story involving Wolf and Garfield. I am willing to write this, and have many possibilities lain out already. Would people want to read that kind of stuff? Message me or write in a review to me your ideas or interest about the plot line. As I said, it will have to be set **_**after**_** the current story now, so it will take a while.**

**Next chapter: A storm is brewing… it's time to get to work.**

**Thanks – K9**


	19. Investigations

**Sorry this has taken me so long, guys; School has begun and I've been up to my eyeballs in admin work and homework. I'll try to keep updating once every week from now on, or if I can during the week as well, but don't hold me to that.**

**In response to reviews:**

**Iamawsome: Um… okay? Don't quite get the first line, but nevertheless; THANKS! I di indeed know it was you, but I had forgotten at the time and couldn't be bothered to search for the exact quote. I hope this chapter will be as good as the last; thanks for your review.**

**Dani9513: Poor Alex indeed. 1) Ben's not a traitor, but it was fun to plant the seeds of doubt. 2) Of course, otherwise it wouldn't be interesting. He'll get better, I assure you. 3) Unfortunately, that won't be the case from now on. I'll try, but it will be difficult. And my number 4) Thanks for your review, and keep reading!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Alex's dates are considerably terrible. His second date and he goes off on a wild goose chase! XD Anyways, Alex always has to take it pretty hard; he has been kept out of the loop for a couple of months. I'd suggest you look forward to the next chapter… thanks for the review.**

**Jellie Smiff: I'm glad you like it. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you keep reading.**

**Lightning And Blossoms: I hope you got my message. Have you read Chapter 16: Tom, yet? If you haven't I suggest you do. It will answer your worries. I'll leave the rest of the story to your imagination as to what happens next. Thanks for the review!**

**CHiKa-RoXy: I've never quite learnt Spanish, only a little French and German, but I would assume that 'tan tan tan taaannnn, leche con pan!' is similar to 'dun dun duuunnnn!' in English, as seen in many corny film scenes and many TV shows. Never mind! I intend on giving his memories back, but we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Thanks for your great review!**

**Warning: This is probably going to annoy a few of you, but if you don't controversial topics like the section marked + TRC:F + then ignore it and move on. Get it? Don't like = don't read. **

**Anyways, here's Chapter 19: Investigations**

Overnight, a small miracle had happened; it had _finally_ stopped raining in London.

Alex had woken up to blissful quiet, the only few scarce sounds the clinking off coffee mugs and plates as Ben set himself about making breakfast and the odd scuffle of footsteps. It had reminded the teen of his earlier years, when he had been still living with Ian and Jack, and it was a lazy Saturday morning. The memories were fond to Alex, and even though they were days gone by with people who were no longer with him, he still felt attached.

It had been a rather uneventful morning, but Alex planned on changing all that. After his encounter with the church and his chat with Ella, Alex had come to the conclusion that if they were going to start being more proactive in the fight against Omega, then now would be as good a time as any to start. He had called an emergency meeting with important key individuals and fellow people with whom Alex believed could be trusted.

Unfortunately, that was a very small group.

K-Unit would be attending, acting as Alex's military experts and tactical advisors. Garfield insisted upon tagging along with Wolf, under the pretence that he could provide a little support. Alex knew better; the teen was coming back to join the fight and was itching to get started. He had read the brief, and now seemed more resolutely set on obtaining his lost memories. With his mind-set, Alex couldn't blame him.

Mrs Jones and Mr Silver would almost certainly be going, Alex was unsure however about their secretaries. He doubted that it would matter, but they would normally follow obediently behind on regular days. Alex just assumed it would be the same situation.

Smithers, against Mrs Jones wishes, had also been asked to come by a personal invite from Alex. The man was one of Alex's closest adult friends, and had been his first trust-worthy person in MI6. He compared their relationship more to that one teacher who would often take a liking to you in class. Also, he's work with Garfield and his knowledge of electronics may come in useful when dealing with the encrypted data.

All in all it was a very small minute group. The drive over with Ben had been filled with uneasy tension; his guardian still held a grudge over MI6 using Alex as a spy, and his reapplication only fuelled that animosity. Ben in fact snapped at an agent that approached them whilst they were at the Clock-tower, some menial form needed signing and Ben had the appropriate clearance to do so. The string of profanities, death threats and curses that ensued was rather alarming and colourful. Alex just hoped he wouldn't be like this during the meeting…

For now, Alex sat idly in on of the many luxurious conference chairs that surrounded the immense table. The room around him was bland; the walls made entirely of glass. The feeling was similar to that of being trapped in a goldfish bowl, and Alex was sure that passers by were looking at him like an animal in a zoo. The rest had better show up soon; Alex was sick of being treated like an exhibit.

Ben was sitting a little away from Alex by about two seats to his right, a folder in his hands. Occasionally, he would write something down, or put the pen to his lips in thought. Alex had asked what was in the folder, but Ben had shrugged him off with the excuse that it was just some work he had to do overtime. Maybe it was a report and it was due in to his superior, or perhaps an intelligence survey that had been made and needed Ben's attention. Whatever it was, Alex had an insatiable curiosity as to what _exactly _was in the folder, and _why_ Ben had it. The last time he had let something like this slide his entire history had been laid bare in front of men whom had made his life hell at one point; the dismissal only made Alex's interest grow.

Idly fiddling with thread that had come loose on his jacket, Alex continued to look around the room, if one could call it that. Each full length pane of glass was spread out, separated by thin steel pillars that interlocked the entire room together. One wall to his right heralded the only entrance in and out of the room, at the moment tightly sealed shut. To open it, one must have a key card, complete the retina scan, the fingertip imprint and voice activation in order to enter. Either that or someone on the inside could let a person in, so long as they deemed it necessary.

There was a lush beige carpet that lined the floor, and the table was made out of a similar glass, a huge pane laid horizontal to act as a work surface. The room smelt clinical; a harsh detergent filled the air as though it had been conditioned and built to last for millennia. With the feeling of being in an exhibit and the rotten putrid smell Alex was beginning to feel more like he was trapped in a tomb. Was there really a need for all this security?

Just as his panic was beginning to bubble, two figures came into view, one a teen and the other muscular man who towered over the kid. The tiniest flick of blue made Alex realise that Garfield and Wolf had arrived. The soldier had never looked so out of place, and so uncomfortable. Alex was about to get up and get the door before it slid open with a mechanical hiss, noise from outside suddenly filling the near silent conference room.

Garfield had had most of his bandages removed it would seem, and his head was now clear of any injuries. He was wearing a simple shirt with a jacket and jeans, similar to what he had worn when they first encountered one another, as if nothing had happened. He had a coffee cup in his hand, and had obviously been talking animatedly with Wolf prior to arriving.

Wolf, on the other hand, looked as though he had just been dragged out of bed, his short hair looking surprisingly unruly and messy, if ever that were possible. His eyes had slight dark rings underneath them, and his clothes looked dishevelled compared to his usual immaculately neat casual appearance he normally sported. Dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, he looked astonishingly normal… especially with the uncharacteristic grin plastered across his face as he chatted with Garfield.

Ben glanced up, noticing the entrants. Wolf made his way over to Ben, who stood up to greet him with a half hug, half handshake. Garfield nodded his head in Alex's direction,

"Rider-boy,"

"Blue," Alex replied just as tersely, remembering he was still on shaky ground with his fellow teen. "You're looking better," he stated, trying to make something positive come between them.

"Yep," Garfield acknowledged, "D- _Wolf_ has been making sure I've been resting. I managed to get off crutches a while back. Memory's still fuzzy though."

"Have you two gone over the brief?" Ben asked, Wolf taking a seat next to where Ben was working, still a seat away from Alex. Wolf spoke first,

"We've read it. Apparently, Pup thinks he's got _selective_ _amnesia_, right?" he looked to his ward for affirmation, who nodded in return, "So yeah, selective amnesia, and he can remember pretty much most of the investigation, just not certain details."

"What about the encryption key?" Alex asked, glimmering hope beginning to ember and burn. Garfield shook his head solemnly,

"No, I can't remember unfortunately," Alex sighed, but Garfield interrupted before he could speak again, "But I'm sure if I created it, then surely I will just have to reinvent it and see where that takes us. I may have some memory issues, but I can still think."

"Then we have a chance," Alex confirmed, feeling a little better now that he was bearing the full weight of everyone's expectations on his shoulders, "Could you tell me what _exactly_ you can remember and what you know so far…"

The two teens began talking between themselves; Garfield sat down next to Wolf to the right of Alex, filling in the last gap between him and Ben.

Wolf turned to Ben, lowering his voice and leaning over to his former team mate whispering,

"So you've decided to take the plunge as well?" he gestured in the direction of the folder, a few documents lying strewn across the surface of the table. Ben flushed, spluttering indignantly as he gathered up the papers and stuffing them in the folder before placing it out of sight,

"Hardly," he snorted, "I'm just… looking into my options."

"Sure," Wolf drawled out disbelievingly, pausing for a moment, "Well, if you need any help… you could just ask me. Or whoever your social worker is or whatever, it's up to you, man."

"I'm perfectly capable of filling in my own forms, thank you very much!" Ben snapped, smiling nervously as Alex and Garfield glanced his way questioningly at his random outburst. The next time he spoke he was back to being quiet, a barely audible whisper, "Besides, Alex might say no, so I don't know. It's just a precaution…"

Even though he was still smirking, he held his hands up placating with Ben and nodding in understanding. A thought came to Ben, and his own sly smile spread across his face,

"Anyway, what about you and Garfield; you can't keep him. You haven't got the space," ben said, rather mockingly as though the teen were nothing more than a pet. Wolf growled dangerously,

"I'm saving up, so keep out of it. If he wants to stay then fine, I'm not forcing anything on him; but you know how I feel about this so don't go screwing it up."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Ben said apologising, but then in a more serious tone, "But seriously though; he could have some deeply buried issues. Not even I know much about his past, and from what he's told us it's pretty grim without even delving deeper. Fostering him could land you in a heap of trouble. When Alex was first at my place, he was having horrid nightmares and problems with opening up. I'm still not even through to him now, not fully at least. Do you think you could handle that?"

"Fox, I've dealt with terrorists in Iraq, I've defused bombs, I've been in hostage situations and I've done all sorts of secret service shit; one adolescent teen is not going cause me _that_ much trouble."

Before Ben could protest, the door slid open again, another resounding hiss filling the room. It was Snake who, instead of greeting everyone in a nice, polite manner opted to forcefully manhandle Garfield up and out of the chair and standing where he began to promptly run over his body. He checked wounds and bandages that still cluttered the teen's torso and leg. He grumbled to himself every now and again, and complained at Wolf for his shoddy workmanship on the new bandages,

"Hey, it's not like I'm an expert!" Wolf protested in defence, "You're the medic, I'm the leader; I lead and _you_ do the healing crap. How am I supposed to be perfect?"

"How the bloody hell did you pass First Aid? You can't even tie them tightly!" Snake growled back, his Scottish brogue coming through (it always did whenever he got wound up or emotional. Trying to maintain some English accent was hard for the natural born Scot).

"It's not that bad…" Garfield cut in, trying to inject some calm into the situation. Snake just glared at him, making him wither on the spot under the merciless gaze, "… or then again, it does look rather poorly done…" he prodded a little of the fabric as though to prove his point, rustling it around a little as he avoided Snake's fury. The Scot huffed, growling slightly as he gave up the fight, simply opting instead to fix the bandages into a better arrangement.

The door slid open again just as Snake finished up his work.

"Am I in the wrong room, or something?" Lion asked, a file open in his hand and a pen in the other. He stared at each occupant in turn; taking in Garfield's pulled up top and bandaged torso, Snake's angry expression, Wolf's irritated one and Ben and Alex hiding away trying admirably to suppress their laughter.

Lion let the silence sink in for a few minutes as the frozen tableau stared at him back before bursting into hysterics of laughter,

"You're faces… so funny…" he wheezed out between huffs of breath, calming down after about a minute of death-defying glares, "What the hell is going on?"

"Yes, it would be much appreciated if you would tell us _exactly_ what is going on here," A voice ordered from behind Lion, who along with everyone else stared out past the door.

Mrs Jones and Mr Silver stood there, with Smithers standing sheepishly behind them. It had been Silver who had spoken, arms folded in front of him his face a crimson red. Mrs Jones stood placidly behind him, sucking on the ever present peppermint. Smithers, however, was beaming broadly, albeit nervously, his glistening white teeth boldly standing out against his tanned skin (whether it was fake or not, Alex couldn't tell. It _looked_ real… but then again, the guy was wearing a perfectly crafted skin suit…).

"Gentlemen, are we all present?" Mrs Jones said her voice cutting and hard. Alex had rarely seen her in such a manner before; perhaps it was because every time they met it was official 'unofficial' business. Was she always like this?

"We're missing Eagle," Garfield stated, idly toying with the now tightly woven fabric across his chest, just visible above the shirt line.

"Oh, sorry," Lion chimed in, "He's looking after Tom. Security and all that; I didn't think it'd be safe to leave him on his own. I asked if Eagle wouldn't mind watching over him I'm here. He doesn't _need_ to be here, does he?"

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"What are you looking at kid?" Eagle finally snapped, tossing the newspaper to one side. He had read the same five words over and over again as Tom had sat from the kitchen staring at him intently. He had been sitting there, minding his own business for well over an hour now. And he was _still _there.

Tom blinked innocently,

"What am I looking at?" he repeated, gesturing to himself in mock-horror, "I'm not looking at anything." Eagle snorted,

"Well, from where I'm sitting, I seem pretty interesting to you at the moment."

"Whoever said I was looking at you?" Tom asked, still feigning his innocence, "I was simply staring at the void space behind your head. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

Eagle sighed, snatching the paper back up,

"Don't you have anything else better to do?" Tom shrugged, looking for something else to amuse himself with.

He had a laptop, he supposed, but it wasn't much fun just being cooped up in his room all day playing online games on it. He hadn't yet managed to sign himself up for any social networking sites, and the thought of traipsing through thousands of accounts in a desperate search for internet friends daunted Tom. He'd probably get one of his friends to do it for him.

Perhaps hang out with real friends? He shook his head,

'_Stupid idea,'_ he thought _'they're all busy… you know that.'_

Ella was, after Alex's outburst yesterday had put her in a bad light with Snake. Mel was a little hesitant to come out as well, since Alex was getting so stressed out and then someone had been following them. Tom didn't want to put _her_ in danger, so she was going to keep her distance for the time being, until the whole thing blew over.

What else could he do then? The only other source of entertainment was the TV; but Eagle was closely guarding the remote, and when the solider had first arrived early in the morning at breakfast they had bickered over every little thing. Who got the last piece of toast, who got to have the TV remote and who would be making lunch? Darren had casually slipped away from the argument as it unfolded; thanking his lucky stars he hadn't got caught up in the whirlwind of childish insults.

It had been fun, pestering the soldier for the first five or ten minutes, but it soon grew boring. Eagle had a knack for taking everything in his stride, and today he was being considerably grumpy. What ever was worrying the man, Tom couldn't tell.

Sighing, he headed over to Eagle with mastered stealth (having Alex as a friend had its benefits) and sat down silently next to him, hiding behind the unfurled paper. Eagle grunted at a few of the articles for a few minutes before turning the page, and nearly leapt back when he caught a glimpse of the suddenly up-close teen,

"GAH!" he exclaimed, reeling backwards, papers flung into the air in a rustle of black and white. He regained his balance just before he was about to tip off the edge of the settee, "What the hell?"

Tom burst into laughter; the look on the man's face was priceless. He never thought he'd ever see the day when he could make an adult SAS soldier jump. Tom's pranking skills obviously hadn't faltered over the few months of inactivity (Mel had kept him under wraps).

"Well?" Eagle snapped, papers still drifting down around them,

"Nothing, can't I sit anywhere anymore?"

"Not near me, you can't" Eagle bit, edging a little away from the teen, who was now sporting a menacing yet childlike gleeful grin, "You keep your distance…"

"What's the matter, Eagle?" Tom said, a plan already forming in his head, one hand reaching out for the nearest fluffiest pillow he could see, "Scared of maybe a small, teensy… PILLOW FIGHT?"

Tom swung the pillow as hard as he could, and the room exploded into a mess of feathery madness.

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Mrs Jones sighed, her head turning to address Alex,

"Why is K-Unit here, Agent Rider?"

"Because I asked them to be. They're some of the few people I still trust; hence their company. Is that a problem?" Alex replied coldly, squaring up to Mrs Jones with rebellious defiance. He kept her gaze for a few minutes. She eventually glanced away, realising that she was expected to answer. She maintained her composure, even though it was evident that she did not like being talked down to,

"No, that's not a problem. It is _your_ investigation after all, do what you will; waste our country's precious resources."

Alex snorted, not bothering to rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back to Lion, and spoke this time around with a more civilised tone,

"Eagle can be briefed later; it doesn't matter. But if he's not coming, then we're all here. Can everyone get seated?" he continued, taking charge. He arranged this gathering, and he was not going to let MI6 run the show when he'd put effort into this.

Everyone bustled to their places, Mrs Jones and Mr Silver taking chairs further away from everyone else. K-Unit clustered together, whilst Smithers opted to take a seat between the teenage agents and the heads of said agencies. Garfield slipped Alex a small, sleek device which looked uncannily like a remote. What he didn't expect was a tiny piece of paper to be tucked underneath it, and Garfield pressed it tightly into his hand, subtly conveying the concern in his eyes. Alex nodded slightly, slipping the note into his sleeve.

He held the remote up, glancing over their controls. One of the buttons, a bright bold red one with black letters, had the words 'BLACK-OUT' plastered across it, and it tempted Alex to press it. The other buttons he could easily work out; door entry, air conditioning, alarm button, computer control… all basic stuff. With no other choice than to give into curiosity, he thumbed the big red button.

One by one, the glass panels began to cloud over, slowing misting to grey, then a deep black. It seemed that MI6 was fond of whatever science this was,

"We call it Black Cloud technology. Useful stuff, my own design of course," Smithers boasted, obviously chuffed with the invention. No one had actually raised the question, but he kept going on regardless, "It's going to be incorporated into most of our gadgets from now on; it can change the aesthetics of any everyday object. Thin microscopic optic fibres threaded throughout said object can change colour, pattern or design, and even display programmes or interfaces."

A throaty cough from Mr Silver's direction made Smithers quieten down, he slumped a little in his seat. The head of MI5 turned back to face Alex,

"Could you please get on with it? _Some_ of us are busy and have more pressing matters to attend."

"Yes, right, sorry," Alex stammered, seeing a similarity between Blunt and Silver; both were just as arrogant as one another, "The reason I've called everyone here today is because I'm sick and tired of Omega running rings around us. Mrs Jones," Alex said, addressing the woman herself, "you said so yourself; we must wait for Omega to make their move before we can attempt any kind of counter attack. Well, it looks like to me they've done more than just attack us; they've ripped us apart. Tom's lost his parents, St Dominic's and Brooklands were blown up, Blue… I mean _Agent Viking_ was very nearly killed and his key memories. I think that _this_ calls for some kind of reaction!"

"Then what do _you _propose, Agent Rider?" Mrs Jones snapped curtly, "We have no evidence, no leads, no available information; there is nothing we can do."

"That's not necessarily true," Garfield piped up, still not giving his full attention and now mesmerised by his coffee cup. Everyone turned to regard the idle teen, who glanced up, seemingly bemused that no one had figured out what he had managed to piece together with only half his memory. He smirked, realising everyone was waiting for him to explain himself,

"Isn't it obvious? Seriously?" blank, gormless expressions gazed back at him, save for Alex, who addressed him with a calm look, knowing full well that he expected Garfield to come up with the strategic thinking and complicated answers. Garfield huffed slightly, "Well, to begin with, there are some really obvious unanswered questions, like who killed Blunt, and why only inject me with Amnicon and make me lose my memories when instead they could have killed me? None of it makes sense, yet no one seems to be bothered by flawed logic and these unanswered questions."

"It _is _suspicious, how details have been omitted from reports," Alex agreed. He turned to Mrs Jones, "Well? His questions; answer them."

Mrs Jones shifted uncomfortably in her seat, gauging a response viable to satisfy their questions yet remain 'classified '. She bit her bottom lip slightly, before beginning hesitantly,

"We are unable to… _ascertain_ solid evidence to your questions. We have had a difficult time in accumulating information regarding these unlikely circumstances."

"In other words; you don't know?" Wolf grunted, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. Mrs Jones fidgeted some more, popping another peppermint into her mouth. She seemed reluctant to speak, and it was Mr Silver, who broke the tense silence,

"Yes, but we wouldn't expect somebody like you to come up with the answers. Just leave the _real_ espionage to properly trained professionals who know what they're doing, _Captain Alvarez_. I suggest that you stick to polishing your guns for when we actually need you."

It was amazing how Mr Silver didn't get sucked into a never ending pit of despair and doom when Wolf shot him the most threatening terrifying death glare possible. It was the most petrifying glare Alex had ever seen from the man; he almost physically recoiled back into the seat. Mr Silver's arrogant smirk only served to add fuel to Wolf's fury.

Alex glanced towards the exit. Could he make it before Wolf launched himself at the head of MI5, or would he be caught in the ensuing chaos?

"_Mr Silver_," Wolf hissed steadily, "We wouldn't need to _'polish our guns' _if it wasn't for you and your constant war with criminal organisations. And to add to that, you would be nowhere without men fighting for you; show us some respect."

Mr Silver's smirk was wiped off his face. The look that replaced it however verged on par with one of Wolf's glares; it was pure hatred and utter loathing. Alex was sure he caught the glimpses of spittle at the corners of his mouth, or was that foam?

Before any verbal sparring could occur, and before Mr Silver demoted or worse dismissed Wolf, Garfield stepped in,

"What Wolf is _trying_ to say, is that we have a lot of blanks that need filling in. That's a pretty abysmal failure on your part; we can't allow for any security breaches and mishaps in reports. We need to crack down on all information that is accessed and augmented."

"I cannot see what you could suggest for us to improve our security. We already have strict protocols in place that account for all our highest ranking personnel," Mrs Jones prattled on, listing numerous but limited reasons as to why they could do no more than what they had already. It was typical dismissive terminology, and Alex had seen it employed by many people in his time. It was a way of buying time, expressing an obsession over one's work or simple patronisation. Blunt had used a similar manner when addressing him and Mr Silver had done the same with Wolf. It would seem that even the heroes and villains had attributes in common.

Mrs Jones drew her little speech, and seeing the lack of reaction she was getting, decided it be best to move on,

"What else do you suggest Alex?" she snapped rather irritably, "This meeting was a reckless idea, and if all you called is here for was so that you could settle your impatience then I will be sorely disappointed."

"It wasn't just that," Alex said with calculated words, each syllable punctuated, "I request that Garfield and I continue the investigation independently; carry out our own inquiries."

"Are you suggesting that our agents are incompetent?" Mr Silver practically roared, bolting upright in his seat, his eyes furious. It was quite an excitable character,

"No, I-" Alex defended, but Garfield cut over him,

"Yes, yes we are. Is that a problem?"

Mr Silver glared at Garfield, who sat smugly from down the table, fixing the man with a cold stare and a sly smile spread across his face. The fury behind Mr Silver's eyes flared intensely,

"And obviously you can do better? Even after being crippled?"

"Yes," Garfield's voice came out cold, even harsher than Alex could recall, "Even when I'm at my worst I can still do a better job than _you_."

Mr Silver considered Garfield's words, his ragged breaths filling the near silent room. He said nothing, thoughts probably whirling around in his head. The fire that was burning behind his glazed eyes slowly faded to frigid anger,

"You can have your request, _Agent Rider_," he said, talking to Alex but staring at Garfield, "But make sure your partner remembers his place."

Alex nodded briskly, not wanting to remain in the tension that had slowly blanketed the whole room. Mrs Jones looked like she was about to snap again, crunching on the peppermint showing the signs of her frustration, Mr Silver shooting daggers from across the table to where Garfield was sitting, Wolf on edge from his tirade and the rest of K-Unit sat in quiet but shocked reverie.

"If that is all?" Mrs Jones spoke up, both her and Mr Silver preparing to leave. It seemed they were in rather a hurry to get away from the group of what they considered to be their inferiors. Alex nodded curtly,

"Yes, that's all."

The two heads rushed out of the room, scurrying away from its darkened walls. The walls were still blacked out, and Alex took the moment of secrecy to finally have a safe place to talk to his trusted friends and allies,

"So, anyone suggest what we do first?"

"I say we check out the remains of all Omega attack sites. That would be the school, the London Eye, my safe house and the hospital. I take dibs on my place," Garfield interjected, before anyone could answer. Ben glanced to Alex,

"I'll go visit the Eye; I can be seen in public and no one will ask questions. I should probably scope out St Dominic's as well. Public places and teenage spies don't mix," Ben suggested, leaning a little back in his chair.

"I'll go with Fox," Wolf grunted, still seething about his derogatory treatment, "Best if he had someone watch his back…" he cast the older spy a knowing glance before looking back at the teens.

"I'll team up with Garfield then; it won't look suspicious that way. We'll just be two teens skiving off school, and we're checking out the cool burnt remains of a horrific explosion. Perfect," he turned to Lion, who had remained silent all throughout the meting, and remained silent even now, "Lion? You look distant…"

"Hmm?" Lion mumbled, "Oh! I was just thinking about how Tom and Eagle might be getting on. I hope they don't tear out each others throats…"

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Lion was going to kill them.

Eagle lay panting on the floor surrounded in a pool of serene white feathers. He promised himself to never _ever_ jibe, taunt, dare or encourage the teen in anyway mischievous way whatsoever. His body was battered from the numerous sly hits that Tom had managed to get in with his pillow, and unable to resist such a childish game, he had joined in and smacked the teen back with another cushion. And evidence of the fight that ensued was all over the apartment.

Furniture lay knocked over, pictures hung limply on the wall, threatening to fall off at any given moment and most of the upholstery and cushioning from the makeshift weapons lay scattered around the living area.

Eagle was never a man to accept defeat. He held the record at Brecon Beacons for being the most defiant and loyal comrade one could have; his record wasn't about to be tarnished by a mere teen. Maybe he should have taken the bitter defeat, avoided the bait and steered clear of Tom at all costs. But Eagle reminded himself he promised Lion he'd look after the teen, and he'd already been told about the boy's history. It was sickening to think how low his parents had degraded him. Maybe indulging Tom in a little fun may help him along somehow…

Eagle groaned, pulling himself up into a sitting position. His abdomen throbbed with discomfort from being hit too many times in the nether regions. Tom hit low; really low. Maybe it was just a teen thing, aim for the nuts?

He rubbed his sore arms. Heaving around guns and supplies was one thing, but when it comes down to a detailed and precise battle of soft cushiony warfare, pillows really took it out on the muscles. Eagle noticed his watch was missing; it must've fallen off somewhere along the line. He'd find it eventually within the mounds of fluff. He wondered what else was missing, and hastily he did a once over on his belongings.

Keys? Yes, they were there, tucked tightly down one pocket.

Bus pass? That too was safely in a pocket on its own.

He carried on, listing off random paraphernalia that he'd brought. There were quite a few items he wouldn't like to mention, and would have instantly died of embarrassment had he lost any in Lion's apartment.

Phone? Wait… where was his mobile? Eagle quickly patted down his pockets, affirming that he had indeed lost his phone. Panic began to rise, but it was only a fleeting feeling. It dissipated into relief; he could just call his mobile and then listen out for the ring. Score one for common sense.

Groaning, Eagle pushed himself up off the floor, straightened out his clothing and dusted away the stray feathers that clung to the fabric. Wobbling a bit on one leg that wasn't as cramped as the other, he slowly stumbled his way into the kitchen to locate Lion's phone. What he found instead surprised him more though. Eagle had found his mobile, for sure.

But so had Tom.

The teen, with his back towards Eagle, was scanning through texts and flicking over read messages. With his privacy being so brutally invaded, he crept up behind Tom, preparing to pounce on the unsuspecting teen.

Somehow, and Eagle never knew how he did it, Tom managed to maneuverer himself out of the way of Eagle's lumbering form, and side stepped away from the soldier. Eagle crashed onto the floor, sending a humungous cloud of billowing feathers into the air. Tom giggled hysterically as he made a mad dash away from the snarling Eagle and to safety.

The soldier leapt up, chasing after Tom who was still going through his messages. Oh God, he had so better not find out about…

"What's this then about you and Lion?" Tom asked, holding the phone out for the seething Eagle to see. It was a draft he had written for a message a while ago. A _long_ while ago. He had forgotten it was still there. He blushed furiously, spittle cornering the edges of his mouth. He was going to _kill_ Tom when he got his phone back,

"That's nothing," Eagle snapped, making one quick fluid flick of his wrist to snatch the phone out of Tom's grip. But the teen, yet again, somehow anticipated his action, and pulled the mobile further out of his reach, "Give it back," Eagle growled dangerously. But Tom wasn't deterred,

"Nothing?" he asked incredulously, looking at the phone again, reading over the drafted message. He began quoting, "'Darren, you make me feel more alive than anyone else I've ever met' and 'I'm straight, yes, but with you it's somehow different'. It almost sounds like a confession of love!" Tom barked, roaring with laughter, but it quickly died down when he saw Eagle's face. He suddenly felt really guilty, without actually understanding why. The feeling was so immense he actually gave the phone back without another word.

He actually _gave the phone back_! He would never have done that! He would have kept it for blackmailing reasons, yet he was having no such thoughts.

Was Eagle… but then did that mean Darren knew? The message hadn't been sent, and was old.

"You say nothing of this," Eagle growled ominously, shutting away his phone, "or else you _**will**_ be sorry."

Tom nodded numbly; he wondered if Alex knew about this, about the secret relations that could be possibly going on behind the men's lives. Did Garfield know, wasn't he supposed to be the most watchful of all of them, and could analyse any given situation with an accurate degree of accuracy? Did he know about Eagle?

If didn't know, then he had probably just stumbled on the most secret of secrets that he had ever known could exist;

Eagle _loved_ Lion…

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"I suppose now would be a good time to show you the most prized function of this room," Smithers said loudly as silence began to fill the room. He took out what seemed to be an interactive tablet, and he began to excitedly flicking across its bare smooth surface, tapping at unseen figurative keys and typing unknown words and codes.

The room darkened some more, regardless of whether Alex thought it was possible or not, and tiny specks of light all colours of the spectrum began to glow and shimmer from the parts of the wall.

They shot out, throwing themselves into the air at the centre of the table. Alex thought for a moment that they were real, but they simply passed through any mass they came into contact with, like ghosts; particles with no consistency.

The swarmed and condensed, hanging in the air like an iridescent cloud; the colours were jumbled now, mixing reds, blues, greens and yellows all tumbling over one another. Soon, it became hard to distinguish where one colour began and another ended. The once shadowy corners of the room were now lit up with an eerie illumination of ghastly tones. The sight was spectacular, yet unnerving. Alex assumed there were hidden projectors casting the twisting writhing form before him. It looked real; like it physically existed, and all one had to simply do was reach out and pluck it from the air.

The mass pulled in on itself, imploding into a sharp dense cube. The shape was divided into jagged outlines of colours, odd purples and oranges and all other shades defined instead of the chaotic mess. Then, for the few precious seconds order was imposed, the shape exploded outwards in a random burst of colour, showering the room with more light than Alex believed humanly possible.

The room was no longer a dull grey or shrouded in darkness; instead now it had been gifted with a soft pleasant glow of varying colours, all pastel shades and slowing creeping along as though in a dreamy state of flux. Ripples of odd vibrant colours flecked the room every now and again, but other than that K-Unit, Alex and Garfield were left untouched, and still sat around the table, which retained its bland boring appearance. Smithers, however, was nowhere to be seen,

"Smithers?" Alex called out, but before he could continue, a hazy form slowly stepped out of the delicate display of hues.

Flecks of light pulled themselves together, swiftly building up the bold for of Smithers. First, it was his legs that began to take shape, closely followed by torso and arms. The light worked its way up, building to some unknown specifications as it finished its construction of Smithers head. It was quite the spectacle; Alex had never seen someone literally appear from nowhere. A simple projection of light and yet it looked so lifelike,

"Sorry mate, had to dash off and the like. That show was only to be a distraction so I could get away without too many questions," Smithers said, his voice extremely realistic, the Australian accent captured perfectly by hidden speakers, "'Always have an escape route' as my favourite gadget master always said. Anyway, we're having some technical issues with the Clock-tower; with the majority of our servers locked off by Garfield's encryption, the tower isn't taking too kindly to the lack of information to process. I'll catch you later. I do believe that Garfield remembers how to operate this room, so I'll leave it at your expense."

The form flickered, then faded to nothingness, set in a frozen pose as Smithers' hologram disappeared from sight. The room dulled down, the colours drifting away until all that was left were strips of coding dancing across the walls in a never ending stream. Garfield bolted upright,

"I've seen this before…" he murmured, frantically scanning the table top. Alex looked as well, seeing how strings of coding also ran across its surface, another projection from discreet projectors.

Garfield tapped at the table top, and Alex watched in amazement as the flowing digits beneath Viking's fingertips aced as though they had become stuck, lodged by where he finger pressed; as though a dam had been built in place to restrict the course of code. As the bundle of coding clogged up, Garfield raised the finger and brought it up into the air, where it followed obediently, transferring from the flat 2D surface to the 3D environment. It was stunning how interactive this room was, and Alex wondered what other secrets it would have in store.

He contemplated about asking what Garfield had seen before, but he thought better of it; with his memory as scattered as it is, it would be best to leave him to try and regain his memories on his own. He looked to be in deep concentration, and if he recognised something then it was a good sign. So, with that in mind, he decided to let him be alone in his own thoughts.

He glanced over at K-Unit, Ben absently talking with Lion, murmurs of words like 'security' and 'caution' drifted over. Snake was talking quite angrily with Wolf, the conversation hushed but heated. They were, only if for a moment, distracted.

He pulled out the slip of paper he had hidden under his sleeve, the paper a tiny scrawl no bigger as though it had been written with the sharpest pencil or the smallest nib. The paper was unassuming, a simple note of crumpled white. It had been tattered at the edges, and the colour had been dirtied over time. All in all, it was relatively plain, bland and ordinary; nothing striking out at Alex at first. But then he read the message, and he suddenly felt his heart leap up his chest and into his throat:

Don't trust Mrs Jones

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Alex sat back in the Rolls Royce Phantom as it raced through the streets of London. There really was no rush, but Lion, who was driving, seemed to like the power and authority it gave him, and mentioned he fully intended to use the gadget-ridden car to its fullest potential.

Garfield had managed to appoint the car for today's use, apparently assuming they were going to need quick and easy transportation. Lion had already been assigned the sole driver to the car; it had been tuned in to his DNA. Smithers had gone into a lengthy explanation into how it worked, but Alex had ended up zoning out, and only managed to regain his composure when he heard '…blow up upon unauthorised use.' He really should have listened.

Garfield sat in the neighbouring seat, flicking away at his own tablet Smithers had handed him before they had left the Clock-tower. He was quite absorbed in his own mumbled ramblings as the car swerved and careered through road after road. Something back in the room, which Alex had dubbed 'The Fishbowl' accordingly, had intrigued and captured Garfield's interest. Whatever it was, it was proving most stimulating, as when they arrived at Brooklands (or what remained); Alex had to physically slap him to shake him out of his trance. The profanities and complaints were thrown casually his way, but Alex smiled innocently, only serving to infuriate the hurt teen even more.

The bricks and mortar that once had been built as Brookland Comprehensive School was now nothing more than crumbling dust. The wind and rain had washed away a considerable amount of the dirt and grime, and along with that a substantial amount of evidence had been lost. Garfield put his tablet away, and instead focused on the task in hand. Lion remained near to the Phantom, ready to intervene and make a quick getaway in case Omega decided to show up.

"That's odd," Garfield thought aloud, hefting up a lump of debris and turning it over in his hands, "It doesn't add up…"

"What doesn't?" Alex asked, crouching down beside Garfield, running his hands through the trails of dirt that had stained where they had dried.

"The rubble, the debris; the school exploded."

"So?" Alex asked, confused as to what Garfield was getting at,

"_So…_ how can Omega operatives which, according to your briefing, can only set themselves alight. They don't explode; only burn. The question is how did they manage to blow up the school when they can only set themselves on fire?"

It was a valid point, and one that Alex hadn't fully considered. How _had_ they managed to destroy the school?

"You see this here?" Garfield asked, holding up a lump of stone, "It's not fire damaged; it's been blown apart from the building. Most of it has burnt, but there a large sections where there is no evidence to support that theory. It doesn't make sense."

Alex examined the rock Garfield had selected. It was relatively unmarred, a few chunks of loser stones crumbling away here or there, and only a little stricken with ash. The thick black dirt came away easily and left smouldering lines across the palm of Alex's hand. But the brick fragment itself was indeed still sturdy, not at all weakened or damaged by the blaze.

While Alex was looking over the example of Garfield's theory, the other teen had proceeded further into the ruins of Brooklands, clambering over fallen pillars that had once adorned the front of the school, and across the uneven and loose floorboards,

"Are you sure this is safe?" Alex called out, following after Garfield,

"No, but who cares? We've dealt with worse," Garfield shouted back, who lifted himself up and over a wall that should have lead into a classroom. Alex chuckled, dashing off after him and slipping his body through a partition in the cracked wall. On the other side, he caught Garfield wincing slightly as he landed hard on his legs, clutching a little at his chest,

"You okay?" Alex questioned dusting himself free of the ash and dirt. Garfield nodded curtly, straightening himself up, taking out his tablet again and powering it up.

Alex glanced around, taking in the destroyed classroom. Books and papers lay burnt and torn in all places, and numerous desks were broken and desecrated. The remains of what possibly had been shelves lay strewn across the wrecked floor, bits of burnt carpet patching here or there. Most of the other walls had collapsed and fallen to rubble allowing Alex to see out across most of the grounds. It was a horrid sight; the school had practically been demolished. He doubted the school could recover from such a blast. Would MI6 fund a rebuilding of the school?

There was small flash of colour by the burnt desk at the front, where the teacher's desk would have been. Alex went over, and pulled away at the scuffed and rotten wood to reveal his school bag, intact and in all its glory. He nearly laughed out loud from the bizarre coincidence.

He yanked it out of the wreckage, dusting it down. Smithers had designed it really well; there was hardly a scratch on it even though it had been in an explosion. Alex looked inside, only to find all his books and gadgets still in pristine and functional condition. A small miracle, and would most certainly add to their guise of being teenagers skiving off school. He pulled it across his shoulder, beaming like a madman.

Alex shook his head, diverting his attention back to Garfield who was panning the camera on the tablet over a section of the debris. He looked otherwise unoccupied, simply moving the tablet this way and that as he stored evidence of the explosion. Alex seized the moment,

"That note you handed me; 'Don't trust Mrs Jones'. What did you mean?"

Garfield glanced back over his shoulder,

"The note; it means exactly what it said," he said bluntly, "Something is wrong, and she's at the heart of it."

"Why?"

"Because," Garfield said, emphasising the 'because', "Blunt was murdered. I mean, he was _slaughtered_ in a locked cell. He couldn't have committed suicide; you try inscribing a haunting message for by enemy in your own blood in two foot letters whilst having your guts strewn across the floor. It's impossible, yet somehow, an operative managed to get into a cell that is monitored twenty four hours a day without causing a sound. There was no breakage in footage, the guards hardly moved and the only person who went in or out was Jones," Garfield paused, catching his breath, "It's only logical to say that she murdered Blunt."

He kicked a small rock, sending it careening across the derelict classroom and smashing into a surviving piece of glass. With frustration evident in his voice, he mumbled, "But it doesn't make sense; none of it does.

"How?" Alex asked incredulously, slumping against a standing bit of wall, "If – _if_ – she murdered Blunt, then how did she do it?" Alex could hardly believe that Mrs Jones would kill Blunt. She couldn't be Omega; Alex had known her for too long, and she had always shown a soft spot for Alex. Omega wanted him dead, she kept him alive. It was a preposterous idea,

"I checked the footage myself, just before me and Da- Wolf came over to the conference room; she was the only person to enter and leave. No one else went in and there weren't any other points of entry. So I looked a little closer, dug a little deeper, and you'll never guess what I found…" he trailed off, leaving Alex pointedly to ask the inevitable question,

"What did you find?" he sighed a little irritably,

"She changed her shoes." The statement took Alex back by surprise,

"Her shoes?" he spluttered incredulously, "You're saying she murdered Blunt because she changed her footwear; are you sure you haven't just lost your memory, and maybe not a few brain cells as well?" Garfield huffed annoyed,

"Don't you get it? If her shoes are different, then what's to say she didn't change her entire outfit? I went over the entire video footage, and there are subtle differences between her clothes when she went in, and then when she left. Most noticeably were her shoes, but there were other things, like her jewellery and her shirt. When she went in, she was carrying a handbag, see?"

Garfield tapped at the tablet screen, bringing up a new programme. Alex moved over to see what the other teen had to show, and on the tablet was a video playing. It was of two guards standing at the end of a corridor, a bird's eye view almost. They were standing bolt upright, guns held at the ready against their waists. The uniforms were plain grey jumpsuits, unusual yet unassuming. A door was set behind them; a heavy steel imposing entryway to what Alex assumed to be Blunt's cell, given their previous conservation.

Alex watched carefully as a new figure appeared within the camera's view; it was Mrs Jones, dressed quite plainly in a suit, her pencil skirt the matching navy to the rest of her outfit. She wore a hideous blood red bow tie, and a beige shirt underneath her blazer, the shoulders slightly too large than the rest of her clothes.

She walked purposefully down the corridor towards the two guards, her shoes clacking on the linoleum. Alex made a note of them, seeing that they were high heels, with dangerously thin pins to act as the heels. She gestured to the guards, who moved away slightly from the door, one of them unlocking at and pushing it open for her. She stepped inside, and remained inside for a couple of minutes. Alex expected Garfield to move the footage on to when she left, but he let it play out, and for about ten or so minutes there was no other movement.

Then, suddenly, a muffled voice called out, and the two guards shouted back into the cell, something like a confirmation. They opened the door, handed the keys to a hand that emerged from behind the door, and left. The door closed as they moved off, and as they moved out of the camera's sight, Alex heard the lock shut with a resounding click. The cell was locked off to anyone on the outside; no one could get in or out.

Another ten minutes or so passed, and then the door unlocked again, and Mrs Jones stepped out, closing the door shut as she slipped away. It locked with another echoing click, and she began to walk away, back down the corridor. Alex tried vainly to check over her person, but he could hardly see any difference. He put it down to Garfield's paranoia; he was probably still in shock from the trauma,

"There's no difference," he said softly, trying to placate what could be a serious situation. Garfield laughed,

"You really think so?" he flicked his thumb across the surface, and the tablet's video went back a couple of seconds, to a point when Mrs Jones was in the optimum position for the camera. Garfield began highlighting specific areas of her, picking out her shoes, the bow tie and her shirt as well as the sides of her skirt, "Now tell me what you see…"

Alex sighed, but leaned in closer, taking the screen from Garfield's hands and looked again. He examined the shoes first, and there were two clear images, one of the shoes before and after. There were measurements against the heels, and Alex noticed how the results didn't add up; the heels before were two centimetres higher than those after, and were about half a centimetre wider. Was it just Alex's imagination? He looked over at the bow tie, tow more images again. The before picture showed quite a large red tie, but the after picture showed one that was slightly smaller, and a lighter shade of red. That wasn't possible, was it? What about the shirt and skirt? Were they any different?

Alex glanced at the shirt, which had now changed from a beige colour to a cream tone, a definite difference. Alex supposed someone could take one brief look and assume it to be the light casting a different shade, but closer inspection showed that there was no light, and the camera had recorded the correct colour. He looked over at the skirt, which looked identical to the first, but the sides were split open slightly, allowing for extra movement. Garfield was right; Mrs Jones had changed her clothes whilst inside the cell.

But why?

Garfield picked up on Alex's confusion, and took the tablet back out of his numb hands,

"See now? Something is _wrong_," he almost pleaded with Alex, "We can't trust her from now on; not until we know the truth. Until then, well just have to keep our wits about her."

Alex nodded, unable to comprehend the facts that were just presented to him.

There was a traitor in their midst. He could feel it.

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They arrived at the remains of Garfield's safe house later in the afternoon, nearer to the evening. The morning had passed on uneventful, and the afternoon was just as bland. Alex rarely spoke to Garfield or Lion, only when necessary, as he still tried to process that Mrs Jones had never told Alex that she had been the last to see him alive. The footage had gone on to show that when the guards arrived, about three hours later, that Blunt was dead and no one knew how.

Garfield had said he'd already read the reports from the guards, but they had no recollection of the events. In the interview, however, the questions had been vague, and Garfield pointed out that there were no queries that directly involved Mrs Jones, or how Blunt died. All that had apparently happened was that they had left for an incredibly long cigarette break, and had returned after t find Blunt dead in his cell, the message written in his blood across the wall. The technician stressed that the entire situation had been left unanswered, and begged for greater attention.

Currently, they were standing at where Garfield's home would have stood, but all they we met with more debris just like the school. Garfield whined and moaned how all his belongings had been torched, but Lion just snorted from the car, still inside seeing as though it was now getting cold,

"You two hurry up with your look around; this thing's gotta get back in an hour or so, and I have to relieve Eagle of the teenage menace we al know and love." A phone rang from somewhere inside the car, and Lion began the search for the offending telephone as Garfield and Alex moved away and over to the pile of rubble that had once been Garfield's home,

"All my stuff!" he groaned, hefting away clumps of rock, "Gone! I'm never going to be able to restore this!" he sighed, shaking his head knowing the futility, "Anyway, it looks like the same thing happened here; an explosion, and not fire damage. It's all wrong."

Alex nodded, kneeling down and inspecting some burnt chunks of server, turning it over in his hand. No way would they be getting information out of this again,

"You remember anything?" Alex called out, pulling himself back up,

"A little," Garfield answered truthfully, jumping down from some rocks that had piled up at the side of the road, "Just vague images and memories; nothing major."

"Go on," Alex coaxed, wondering where this was going, hopeful that the teen would remember.

"I just can't seem to put out of my head why they didn't kill me, and just made me forget instead," Garfield started on a tangent, scratching the back of his head, "I recall a man – somebody I had met before, but I don't remember. Anyway, he was there, and he leant down and hesitated before injecting me. He was familiar somehow… I'm not sure. But he had the perfect chance to finish the job and kill me. Instead, he ran away, and then a couple of minutes later Wolf came, and I passed out from exhaustion."

"So you're saying that this man you knew, but you forgot, and he chose to let you live and not die?" Alex summarised, trying to clear up the blanks. Garfield nodded, looking out over the rubble. He sighed,

"That's all I can think of. I'll try and remember, but I see lots of people I think I recognise all the time; paranoia from my thievery days. Maybe he was just a ghost from the past."

_Ghost from the past?_

"Could you run a check for me?" Alex blurted out, suddenly changing the subject. Yesterday came back full force and hit him as he remembered the girl. Garfield looked at him strangely, but was cut off by Lion's voice,

"Garfield!" he shouted out, "I got to go, and Wolf's just called; he wants you back within ten minutes. We need to go now!"

"Just a sec!" Garfield yelled back, before turning back to Alex, "A check on what?"

"Could you find out about a church called 'The Church of Ingrid Aarons'? And could you find out where a girl named 'Sabina Pleasure' is?" Alex begged, seeing the need to hurry. Garfield looked sceptical,

"Sure, but can I ask why?" Alex shook his head, "Fine then, I'll see what I can do, but it'll be a while, so I'll get in touch… Will you be alright getting home on your own?"

Lion beeped the horn impatiently, motioning for Garfield to leave. Alex affirmed he'd be able to walk home; there was a tube station nearby and he was sure he could easily find his way back. It shouldn't be far.

Garfield uttered a short good bye before sprinting over to the now started car. It pulled away as soon as he was in, and sped off into the city streets, leaving Alex stood in the ruins of the apartment.

It was going to be a long walk back.

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Alex sat on the train quietly, waiting for his next stop. The carriage was practically empty, save for an elderly woman with her young grandson and an older teenager than himself. The ride was going in pretty much silence; the only odd noise was the rattle of the tracks and the boy's odd murmurings to his grandmother. It was a pleasant break from the day's hectic schedule.

He glanced at his watch again for the fifteenth time, knowing he was far beyond just being late now. Ben should have been expecting him back over half an hour ago, and with Omega on the prowl Alex didn't expect to be let off lightly.

He smoothed out his uniform, fiddling with a bare thread that had come loose to try and ease his uncertainty. He could feel that something was wrong; but what was there to fear? Did he really expect a pensioner and her grandchild to attack him? Or the teen who was far more interested in his Ipod to take any notice? Nothing was out of the ordinary, but then again, Omega operated under the illusion of safety. Alex stiffened in his seat, suddenly wary and ready to run if needs be.

The train continued to pull along the rail, making its way to its next destination. Dark tunnels flew by, and Alex got a deep foreboding sense of claustrophobia. He was in a very weak position; he had to get out. The next stop would be relatively near Ben's house; he could walk from there.

Pulling into the station, Alex kept himself on the edge of his seat, ready to leave the instant the doors started to close again so that no one could follow him. He counted down the seconds the doors remained open, but no one came in, and Alex kept counting, holding his breath slightly in anticipation. What did he expect; some person to come in and burst into a flames?

The seconds drew on, and Alex realised something was wrong; it was taking to long. The doors weren't closing. He looked around the carriage, and noticed that each occupant was staring at him intently with cold malicious eyes. The young boy stood on a seat behind the elderly woman who had her hands grasped tightly around a nearby pole. The teen had dropped his Ipod and it now hung uselessly by the cords attached to the headphones in his ears. All of them had hard gazes that bore into Alex; they couldn't be…

Alex got up quickly, making his way to leave, but as he neared the door, he saw a long line of random dressed people, all looking like regular commuters. Except they weren't regular; they all held guns in their hands; guns that were all trained on Alex. There was a muffled cacophony of weapons being cocked and primed, and Alex stared right back with a blank glare, trying to hide his growing fear. There was no way out, they had tricked him and deluded him into a sense of security around supposedly innocent people.

The operatives that stood before him surged in one large shuffle forwards, moving closer in a wide arc towards the carriage. Alex stepped back, keeping his distance between himself and the guns. They repeated the action, and Alex took another step back into the carriage, making sure to avoid the other three passengers. Soon, after many more shuffles, Alex was pressed in to a seat, with operatives dotted around the carriage, all with guns pointed at him. Altogether, there were about a dozen of them; all varying ages, genders, creeds and nationalities.

He sat perfectly still in his seat, waiting for them to make the first move. Nobody said anything as another person stepped in dressed in a dark suit, and the doors close. The train began to pull away with a jolt, and Alex realised he had just been trapped inside a moving tin can with about twelve or so insane gunmen.

The train began to pick up speed, and the interior was plunged into a hazy darkness of fluorescent lights and ghastly glows from all around the carriage.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it Mr Rider?"

**Again, we have a lovely long chapter that took me hours to write; please be merciful!**

**Dramatic, no? I hope you enjoyed that because it was a pain to write. My friend Aidan forced me to let him read it against my better interests, and has been scrutinising every mistake I make. Hopefully, I've got this perfected, but I couldn't care less to go back and correct details. If you notice anything, point it out; I won't mind.**

**Monkey DeRanged has suggested a side story involving Wolf and Garfield. I am willing to write this, and have many possibilities lain out already. Would people want to read that kind of stuff? Message me or write in a review to me your ideas or interest about the plot line. As I said, it will have to be set after the current story now, so it will take a while.**

**Thanks to all those who review and to those who are **_**going**_** to review. I look forward to reading your comments each and every time.**

**Next chapter: Alex is caught; will he survive? Will we finally get the answers we've been looking for?... only time will tell.**

**Thanks – K9**


	20. Revealed

**Well, all I can give you is my biggest apology yet; just come back off a week of work experience (as boring and mind numbing as it was) and was unable to really write anything substantial. I hope that this can live up to your expectations of what you were waiting/anticipating for. **

**Hope to hear from you in your reviews…**

**Which reminds me; in response to reviews:**

**PeppermintToothpaste: I try to keep the balance ^_^; Thanks for reviewing!**

**Dani9513: I'm sorry, but Alex is, in all the books, the centre of every doomsday plot and just simply attracts madman and danger to him like a magnet… or a moth… a human sized teenage moth spy… o_e I'm scaring myself… Glad I could surprise you with the plot twists and whatnot. I wouldn't dream of ever leaving people hanging by a thread! I shall keep posting till the day I die… or something thereabouts depending on my death. Thanks!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: I have been working… just not the kind you might have been expecting. Here it is anyway; I hope you enjoy. You're one of the few that I can recall who've stuck this out. Not much in the way of comedic relief in this one, but it is a MAJOR chapter/spoiler thingy. Thanks for your review!**

**CHiKa-RoXy: Me and my informal British! I'm sorry about that again; it's hard to draw the line between what is proper English, and what's not. Thanks… I don't think it's the best, but I'd like to hope that it was at least good. Thanks for the review as well!**

**BumblyBee3: I'm glad I was able to make you laugh; difficult to try and contrast both seriousness with comedy, but I tried. I wouldn't worry about school; I only have a few months left before its back to college! ( D8 ) Thanks for the review, and err, thanks for loving me?... I guess. Never had a fan before…**

**Jellie Smiff: I promise to update as quickly as possible, but as I have mentioned, stuff gets in the way and I have to deal with it. Thanks for reviewing, and thanks for thinking the story is so amazing. I just think it's adequate, and I'm not exactly trying to be modest…**

**Albany: Here's the next chapter so you won't be in a state of worriment and anxiety any longer! Thanks for your review!**

**Lightning and Blossoms: Poor Alex indeed, but he always gets all the good chapters ;) I hope this one can help lighten the load… You're interested in the Wolf/Garfield side-fic? That makes two... I'll still need more unfortunately… I'm glad you like the story; I'll be sure to update as quick as I can.**

**Here's chapter 20: Revealed**

Alex glowered at the lanky man that had stepped onto the train, his dark suit creased in numerous places. The voice sounded familiar, but Alex couldn't quite place it.

He strode over to Alex, taking a seat directly opposite the teen, straightening out his clothes as he sat down. To the outside world, everyone on the train looked like regular commuters. But Alex knew differently. Each and every one of these people was a trained killer, an expert in acting innocent and in plain sight whilst underneath they were a horrid individual.

"Omega?" Alex asked, and the man in the dark suit nodded, a devilish grin splitting across the pock-marked face,

"Quite right Alex. You must surely understand that now you are at our mercy."

"I've been at your mercy the instant I stepped into this country; what do you want with me? Who are you?" Alex retorted. He could die, but then again, he might not.

"We rarely ever use names, Alex, only codes and pseudonyms. We can often get tied down when we have a social name. Most of my operatives go by a number or a letter and so forth. For example, I am Mr E."

"Right," Alex said, mockingly, "Now tell me, will I be meeting Sir Prize, or perhaps Miss Singh?"

Mr E barked out a coarse, sharp laughter, the sound piercing the air and making Alex cringe; his breath carried across the short gap between them. It was rancid with smoke and foul tar, and clogged Alex's senses. He recoiled slightly, pulling himself away from the stench. Even the man's clothes stank of acrid fumes.

Alex took a moment to examine the man's face, trying to determine what was so familiar about him. He was bald, the skin pulled taut and shiny. The artificial light reflected against his bare head, and Alex realised that the man's head was free of hair completely. His eyebrows, eyelashes; all his facial hair was absent. His smile was malicious; it cut his face into two halves, neither one better to look at than the other. Small moles dotted his face, along with pocks and blemishes. You could tell by smears of make up that he had tried to hide his ugliness, but the unnatural stains were evident in the false light.

Alex moved down across the suit. It was an imposing crimson, the shirt black and the tie matching the blazer. He wore a waistcoat, which surprised Alex; he hadn't come across many evil villains who had a taste in vintage fashion. There was an embroidered pattern of crisscrossing leaves and vines across the velvet fabric, and the buttons were a sleek gold. The contrast of black, blood and gold screamed wealth and fortune, and Alex could feel the air of arrogance and confidence that Mr E was swathed in. His shoes were impeccably polished, the garish lights shimmering in their jet black leather. The buckles were again gold, and they too shone with a brilliant glow.

"You may mock me Alex, but at the end of the day, I will be the one to give the order whether to kill you or not. I have that power; do remember that."

"If you truly wanted me dead you would have already done it by now," Alex sneered, "You've had ample opportunity." Mr E croaked another scratchy cackle,

"Indeed, you are a very perceptive boy. Our little games that we have been playing have been such fun, haven't they Alex?" he leaned in closer to Alex's face, their noses mere millimetres apart, "Have you worked it out yet; have you figured out the plan?"

Alex stared into the man's fathoming green eyes. He could see the monstrosity writhing behind his pupils, the touch of pure evil seeped from them; the feeling was overwhelming, so much so Alex had to mentally keep himself in check. The acrid breath was right in his face now, billowing out around his cheeks. It reeked of rot and filth. It was as though the man was the very figure of disease and corruption itself.

Alex remained silent, testing to see where the conversation was heading. Mr E didn't move, holding still even as the train clattered about,

"It's quite a marvel Alex. Humanity is the greatest force on this planet. You can forget the nuclear missiles, you can forget supernovas or cancer; the most omnipotent and disastrous creation in this universe is _us_," he paused for effect; Alex thought he had moved slightly closer, "We are the ultimate weapon. We can tear down mountains, level thousands of acres in a day; crack the mysteries of science and all on a whim, all out of inexplicable curiosity. Why did we build aeroplanes? Why did we put man on the moon? Why did we decide to split the atom?" He glared intently at Alex, obviously expecting an answer,

"Oh, I don't know… because we could?" Alex sighed sarcastically, knowing it was the answer he was expecting. Mr E smiled again, the sinister grin contorting his face and wrinkling it in many directions. But the grin soon grew into a smirk, and then into laughter. The other passengers joined in with their leaders howling, the sound chorusing throughout the carriage. It was mocking, like Alex was an innocent child who had stumbled upon one of life's lessons. It was almost _patronising_,

"You lesser beings are so susceptible it's _disgusting_," Mr E suddenly ground out the last word with bitter anger, the laughter immediately stopping and all the operatives returning to watching him with stern gazes, "What you believe to be curiosity is another matter entirely. You see, curiosity does not exist; it is only a concept, a meagre idea that has no conjunction with reality; what you experience is simply a privileged illusion we allow you to have. It has no tender. It is a pitiful excuse for you to elude fact and to escape into fiction."

Alex shook his head incredulously,

"What the hell are you on about?" he snapped, "and who's 'we'? You act as though you rule over us 'lesser beings'," the sarcasm was laid thick, Alex didn't bother to hide it. It didn't matter.

"We are Omega." Alex growled irritably,

"And who exactly are Omega? What does it mean? Is it Greek, or is it some kind of code, or just a stupid name? "

Mr E smiled slightly, his lips twitching in amusement and excitement. The game always got him on edge, it was his addiction. He lusted for moments like this,

"Omega: the Organisation of Manipulation, EspionaGe and Assassination. We are the perfect order, a unified force for one purpose only. Whereas some terrorists seek destruction and chaos or some yearn for money and wealth, we are different. We are not distracted by the petty prospects of possession or by the trickery of a single resource. We want control; total and utter dominant control of this entire world." Mr E let his words sink in, but Alex was disbelieving,

"So you're a bunch of power freaks who want to run the world? And you're special because…"

Mr E resisted the urge to hit the boy, even though the smooth pale cheeks were so tempting and taunting, beckoning him to grind them to a pulp. He had to restrict his urges,

"We are not just special Alex. We have been turning the world for countless of centuries, controlling this and that. It began long ago, predating even the Greeks and the Ancient Egyptians. Back then it was a simple council of a few minds, collected together to establish order. Omega was founded back then, millennia back. Its sole purpose then was to reach out and stride across the globe, to waltz out across the thin fabric of life and to bring order to those with the intelligence to use it. But first, civilisation had to grow, to multiply and congress. All the while we stood in the shadows, preparing and waiting for the right moments in which to assume power and control. But humanity got between us and our goal; your feral rage and primal fury was an unexpected yet astounding force. At the time we had not even begun to imagine the kind of power lesser beings possessed until then. Each time we were close to achieving our prize, it would be snatched away again.

"The Ancient Egyptians were terrified of us; they resorted to petty and bizarre traits in order to comprehend our power. They worshipped animals; built impressive giant pyramids just for one man and went to extortionate lengths when it came to death. That was because of us; we controlled death, we manipulated the population into a state of constant but subtle fear. The Greeks, also, feared us. They even designated a letter to us, the Omega. It meant last, as in we were the last. We were the last thing before death. We were the end. We _are_ the end. We have seen empires rise so high then fall even faster. We have watched humanity writhe and mutate into something disgusting, but we held back. We have had a plan for a long, long time. We have been waiting, and we still are.

"We seek complete control; and we shall get that goal. It is nearly in sight, nearly in our grasp. We had to wait thousands of generations to build the solution, to prepare for the day when we would rise. We needed an age of susceptibility, of weak-wills and rotten minds; an age where modern technology rules over your lives, demanding your attention. We needed information, we needed individuals and events to take place, but that took time. It took time for information to gather, to collect, and time for people to grow, to shape into pawns of our game. And you, _Alex_, are one of them.

Alex listened with faint disgust and horror as the train continued regardless down a darkened tunnel. Was he being serious? The speech he was prattling off was insane, and judging by his tone Alex would have guessed that he was enjoying every minute of it. An Organisation of Manipulation, EspionaGe and Assassination? Total control? Pawns in a game? It was all too much,

"Do you really expect me to believe all this? That Omega has been around since the dawn of time and that you have been chipping away at humanity?" he interrupted him in his rant, "Its absurd. You're human yourselves, so your just contradicting your own speech. And to be honest, you're just as sick. You commit suicide just to get what you want, you have complete _disregard _for everything else, and you even use _children_! We're not the primal monsters; it's you who are the monsters."

Mr E laughed again, the same mocking tone,

"Oh Alex, how naïve you are. The British Government use children too; just look at you!"

"I was forced to do what I've done."

"Of course, but then again, you did reapply voluntarily to become a full fledge agent, if you remember. Not too long ago as well, so it should be fresh in your mind," Mr E chided. Alex's blood froze in his veins. How had he known about that? Mr E chuckled, "Alex, we have prepared for every eventuality, we know everything. There is no way to win. We will get what we want via any means necessary. If that means killing you, Blunt or ourselves, then that it is what we shall do; for the greater cause."

"You're mad," Alex stated bluntly, not willing to question his motives any further. It already sickened him that they would use a child as well, but the kid looked barely old enough to be in school. And then there was the Incendiary Particles that caused them to spontaneously combust on the spot. It was destructive suicide and they cared very little, if not at all, about those they hurt; it was all just a plot to them, and at the end it mattered not to them who lived and who died. They would have won, and humanity would be enslaved.

"Perhaps," Mr E agreed, shrugging his shoulders, "But like you said, we are only human after all. But in the new world; _our _new world, we shall change what the term human means. It is just a title given to an ideology, another fraudulent concept that has no real purpose. Human can mean many things. It could be the name of our species, or it could be the attitude towards others. Humane is peace, whereas inhumane is cruelty. But that is only by defined standards, a narrow-minded and archaic approach to life. We could, if we wished, flip the definitions around just as easily, where inhumane becomes peace, and humane becomes cruelty. It is all abut manipulating the environment to suit one's needs. Just like we manipulate you and you're friends. It's all part of the plan."

Alex realised, then, that he was being played along. He had been right from the start, right from when he had set foot in England. But was that all? Could it go back further than that? If he were to believe this man's nonsensical and fantastical story of an ancient cult organised for one purpose only, then did this scheme that was unfolding now go back that far too? It was hard to believe that even an organisation even existed for the sole dominance of Earth, let alone one that had been around since the dawn of civilisation.

"You're lying," Alex said, "I don't know what about, but something you said is wrong; you lied."

Mr E chuckled slightly, humoured by the circumstance,

"You're catching on quick, Alex. You're right; part of what I said was a lie. It's a ridiculous notion that we have for millennia shadowed the world. We certainly have a history, but not one that goes that far back. It is a nice thought though, to be feared throughout history with ancient peoples petrified at our very name, but you must have caught on, hadn't you?" Mr E glared at Alex, "A simple coincidence that our name is the same letter in that of Greek, and we have never shown ourselves fully to the public – or the secret agencies – in all our years of service. We manipulate you; all of you, just like I bent the truth of the world to suit Omega's background. It is all just smoke and mirrors. Your perception of events can be greatly altered by a few snippets of information. That's why we've been so successful over these generations. We've infiltrated the media, controlled its content. We've forced countries into situations where wars have come about. Take a long look at 9/11, and what followed after. That is our aim; to bring countries against one another and eventually to their knees. We will rule, Alex… it's only a matter of time. Everything is already falling into place."

"So that's what you do?" Alex concluded, "You manipulate, you spy and you kill; all for one measly goal? What then? What happens after that?"

"We shape the new world to our liking, and then we shall start all over again. Once utopia has been achieved, then we shall tear it all down again, like a jigsaw. To have the joy of the puzzle once more, first you must destroy what is already there."

"That's insane!" Alex exclaimed, horrified that they intended to only use the world as their plaything,

"Indeed, but it doesn't matter to you; you shall be long gone when the Armageddon shall come about," Mr E snapped his fingers, and an operative to his right nodded their head curtly, pressing an unseen button somewhere off to the side of the carriage.

Alex watched as the tunnel around the carriage slowly pull away, revealing that they were in fact inside a warehouse of some kind; a vast and huge industrious place. The carriage was still moving, but on a inverted wheels, which spun In the opposite direction to give the illusion of movement. The entire carriage had been removed from the train and abducted to this location. It mystified Alex how that was even possible without giving the slightest hint away.

The doors were obediently yanked open by operatives outside, and Mr E stood up, gesturing for Alex to follow with him. Alex had no choice. He rose from his seat and faithfully left the carriage with the madman.

The warehouse he was in was now even bigger than what he had seen. It seemed to stretch on for miles, giant shelves and platforms lined the walls and floor. Metal grilles patched the wall, and crawled upwards around the inside of the building. The smell was musty, like the building had been closed for years. Alex tucked that information away for later; old building, huge and industrial design. It shouldn't be too hard once he escaped. People of all ages, creeds, colours and genders milled about, mulling through the open space here and there. Other than the shuffle of their footsteps, the occasional whirring of machinery and clanking of metal, the warehouse was silent; an eerie calm quiet that settled upon everything like dust. It unnerved Alex as to how they it could be so impossibly quiet. But the silence was short lived, as Mr E began his pious speech again,

"As you can see, we have no limits. There is no length we will not go to that keeps us from our goal. We have set ourselves up with a vast and magnificent empire that spans the entire globe; a feat that took us years to create, just like our plan."

"Then why only appear when Scorpia fell? Why suddenly pop up now?" Alex asked, trying to dig for as much information as possible before he enacted his escape. Mr E chuckled again, the smugness evident in his voice,

"Because that was part of the plan; everything is part of the plan. Scorpia were a thorn in our side. It took us a while to tear them down, but we managed. They were an unexpected anomaly, a cancer that had to be removed." Mr E turned to Alex, "You see, we never engage directly with anyone; too risky. We could ruin the entire plan by prematurity. So instead we get others to do our work for us; and you fitted the bill nicely. Do you remember your first mission, and how Scorpia provided the virus for Herod Sayle?" Alex nodded, "The reason you were involved, against all regulations and human rights was because Blunt requested it; he enforced it even. Why; _because we told him to._ We forced his hand with a situation he couldn't back out of. You are a very useful resource, Alex, a _very_ useful resource indeed."

"If I'm so useful, then why have you been trying to kill me?" Alex inquired, his eyes flicking from one operative to the next, looking for his window of opportunity. Mr E cackled again,

"We were never trying to kill you Alex, on the contrary; we were _helping_ you. Allow me to explain. We had to wait for Project Viking to mature. His progress was slow, and for some time we didn't think he'd pull through for us, but he did. And we're ever so proud of my handiwork,"

_Handiwork? Project Viking? _

"However, unlike Garfield, you excelled Alex; Project Rider was outstanding. We never expected such results to come from you. But there was a downside; with your rapid progress, it meant our other individuals needed time to catch up. So we had to leave you dormant… only for a few months, while Garfield gained experience and knowledge. But during that time you grew lax and stagnant. When you returned to duty, you were not physically or mentally prepared for action. S we devised plans in which to force you to remember your training, to transform you back into the weapon that you are. And you've done magnificently, Alex. But now all that effort has gone to waste, because now it's time for you to die."

Alex heard the mechanical click of a safety catch behind him; the muzzle of a gun pressed into the back of his head. Alex wasn't ready for it and he tensed up, froze to the spot as he felt death boring into the back of his skull. He could feel the cold metal chilling his hair, the heat draining for him. He'd been in situations like this before, but something about the Mr E made Alex think twice about his circumstance. Before, his foes had been moral, and had underestimated him because he was young. But now, according to these people he had been manipulated and guided through the shadows all his life by them, and Alex knew they wouldn't hesitate when it came to killing one of their own.

"Why kill me? What could you possibly gain from my execution?" Alex asked, not daring to turn around and face his killer.

"That, Alex Rider is something for you to figure out yourself," Mr E hissed, jabbing the gun even more into the back of his head, eliciting a sharp stinging pain where it was pressed, "It's a shame; you would have been such a beautiful icon for our campaign. Now I have to ruin that pretty face of yours."

Seconds ticked past, time slowing. Alex could hear his heartbeat. It was _so_ loud… The air in his lungs was suddenly heavier, the room darkening. How long did he have? How long would it take?

'_No time like the present'_ Alex thought, bracing himself for the impact.

Alex kicked out with a leg behind him, connecting only slightly with Mr E's shin. The man had shifted out of the way pretty quickly, but he had kept his attention on the gun trained at Alex's head. He was only barely anticipating Alex's attack, and the small clip to his shin only made him falter for a fraction of a second.

Alex moved quickly, leaping away from the merciless range of the weapon. He pulled up his bag, using it to guard himself as best he could from the inevitable onslaught of bullets. The plating Smithers had installed into Alex's rucksack would most certainly come in handy; especially for moments like these. Alex wondered if the man had a sixth sense about these things, giving Alex the gadgets he would almost definitely need.

A rain of steel bore upon him, ripping apart nearby operatives who unfortunately for them got In the way of Alex's path. Only bullets that strayed Alex's way were harmlessly deflected by his makeshift shield, and ricocheted out into the warehouse.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Mr E screamed, realising what Alex had done. He had tricked them into firing upon their own people, which really shouldn't have mattered. But with a warehouse on this scale, Alex figured it must have been important for one reason or another. One vital warehouse and numerous casualties normally didn't mix; but add in the Incendiary Particles and it was a lethal concoction.

The few bodies that now lay on the floor now erupted into fierce blazes. A chain reaction began to take place, where the other operatives nearby would get caught in the blast, hurting themselves in the process as well. They too would burst into flames and so the pattern would continue. The fire was beginning to spread, and only a small amount of chaos acted as Alex's diversion. It would have to do, and he fled quickly, only getting shot at once or twice as he sprinted down a long narrow aisle between two shelving units that towered above him.

Glancing back, he could see Mr E and many other operatives beginning to take control of the blaze with practised ease. It didn't matter, so long as he put as much distance between him and them as possible. But the feeling of accomplishment didn't last long; as Alex saw the more agile and lithe operatives come chasing after him.

Alex raced on, taking stumbled steps as he tripped up on the odd piece of metal or scrap. The operatives didn't have that much trouble, and once one of them had caught up enough, once again opened fire upon him, the bullet screaming past his ear and buffeting searing heat as it sailed past. Alex raised the bag again, trying to protect himself as much as possible. More bullets followed, clanging noisily against the metal hidden inside and bouncing pitifully away. Some bullets rocketed past and shot into surrounding pipes and shelves; boiling steam missing Alex by centimetres as he tore past. A few boxes fell, but he dodged them just as easily as the operatives made their pursuit ever harder by their own actions.

Alex burst out into a small, open enclosure, surrounded practically on all sides by frightening girders and walls. He could hear the yelled mumbles of operatives behind him; he didn't have long. He needed to find a way to either hide or escape. A window perhaps; or maybe a ventilation shaft, they always came in handy.

The crash of metal behind him made him think quicker, hastily looking for an exit. Spying a door set off hidden behind some grilles, Alex dashed towards it, heaving away the obstructing articles.

'_Please don't be locked…'_ he thought, his hand roughly catching on the handle. To his relief, the door swung open, and Alex tucked inside, nearly slamming it closed. He let it gently click shut before it banged on its frame, and fumbled with the lock slightly, the rusted mechanism giving him only a slight amount of grief. Once he was satisfied that the door was properly locked, he glanced around at his new surroundings.

He was in some kind of storage facility, a small stockroom where the operatives must keep something important if he were to go by the carefully laid out boxes and crates, all lined up in coordination with painted lines and haphazardly drawn sections. The room was empty of anyone, and the only company Alex had were the neatly packed crates that were crammed into every available shelving space. The entire room was chock full of the boxes, and Alex took a few tentative steps forward, following the bold yellow line that had been dragged across the floor by some amateur painter.

The room lead on for quite a bit, and Alex was constantly checking behind him and down the narrow aisles for any sight of an Omega operative. A hazy shadow lingered around every corner, and Alex was worried there might be hidden CCTV somewhere. It hardly mattered; the chances he was going to be caught were impossibly high. But as long as he was free and moving, he had the slim hope of escape. He just needed to find that all important exit.

Alex came to an open beam of light at a junction between two wide aisles. The yellow paint joined into one large mess, and Alex glanced in all directions looking for the signs of a way out. His eyes fell upon the half opened crate that had been left on the floor. Alex went over; crouching down to pry of the lid and see what was inside.

It took a little leverage, but Alex peeled away the flimsy plywood lid, revealing the bundle of straw and hay inside. The golden brown fibres were rough and thick, and Alex almost didn't contemplate searching inside for a second. But his inane curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself rifling through the dried grass. His hands were scratched by the itching strands, but soon he struck gold; his fingertips fleetingly brushed against something solid enough, yet still pliable. Alex pressed down lightly and felt it give, the object moulding under his touch. Pressing around again, he tried to pull out the item, its sides squishing inwards slightly as he wrenched it free.

Alex gave it a glance over, dusting away the dirt and straw that still clung to it. In the box he saw another object identical to the one he was holding; they both looked like some kind of clay, but the texture didn't feel right, smoother somehow. It reminded Alex of plastic; he looked over the large cuboids again. They _were_ plastic. They were plastic explosives.

Alex checked the box again, tilting it slightly; he read the faded lettering that had been etched in blood red across the side.

"'C-4' – HANDLE WITH CAUTION"

Alex pulled out the other block as well, weighing up each in both hands. He tried piecing together this new found information; Omega had blown up several buildings, including his school, Garfield's safe house and St Dominic's. Could this be how they did it? He'd have to consult Blue later, for now he had to escape, and now he had an incredibly useful resource at his disposal. The explosives would almost certainly come in handy…

"Put them down."

Alex froze as he heard the squeaky voice behind him, hearing the pump as whoever it was primed a shotgun. Slowly and gingerly, he lowered the plastic lumps back into their nest of hay, and began to stand up,

"Stay where you are; on your knees lesser being!"

Alex didn't slow down. He kept standing up slowly,

"I said stay where you are!"

"No." Alex said bluntly, now at his full height. He didn't turn around just yet. He needed to know how far to test his adversary before he confronted him.

"W…What?" the high-pitched voice squeaked. Alex sighed,

"For starters, you can't kill me; at close range that shotgun will kill me for sure, and I don't think you've had orders to kill me just yet. Just because I don't know the plan doesn't me I don't know the rules. And secondly, shooting me would cause sparks in the barrel of your gun, igniting the surrounding explosives. If I'm correct in thinking that all these boxes contain C-4, then that would be one tremendous blast. It would kill not only you, but me and the entire warehouse, ruining your operation. I and all of you would burn, and your plan would be wrecked. Also, on a third note, I don't think that _you _want to die…"

Alex turned around, finally coming face to face with the tiny child from the carriage. The image of the small angelic boy holding the menacing and unforgiving weapon in his hands seemed unbelievably disproportionate. The serene youngster and the imposing shotgun countermanded each other. It was an almost laughable scene, but Alex kept his eye trained on the two empty voids of black that stared at him, and then followed the sleek metal back to the holder, staring intently into the perfect blue eyes,

"I am Omega!" The child very nearly screamed, his face contorting with rage. His grip tighten, the knuckles growing white and straining with effort and exertion. Alex shook his head, chuckling at the child's imprudence,

"Oh really now?" he laughed mockingly, "Not _we are_ Omega? I mean, you must be oh so special to have the privilege of speaking in the singular." The young boy stared at him with frightening dark grey eyes, the light barely casting a flicker across them. He didn't say anything in retaliation, but his grip on the gun faltered; Alex had found a crack. Time to break away the rocks to make his escape…

"You don't want to work for them, don't you?" Alex asked, trying to give the boy a sympathetic ear. The little lad's stare hardened, the grip shaking,

"NEVER; MY ENTIRE BEING BELONGS TO OMEGA! WE WILL BE SUPREME; WE WILL CONTROL!" he bellowed, jabbing the shotgun in Alex's direction.

"You don't sound so sure…" Alex taunted, shifting ever so slightly into a fighting stance. He doubted the kid would even notice in his boiling rage,

"I'll show you sure…" the boy snarled, aiming with the muzzle, forgetting all the important details like who he was up against, who he was and where he was. Before the small child could react, Alex had pivoted forward, slamming his foot into the butt of the gun. The kid's much tinier stature made it easy for Alex to kick the gun out of his hands, allowing it to fly up and sail into the air. With the kid disarmed, and the shotgun still in the air, Alex shifted again with his weight, propelling his momentum down as he hit the child backwards.

The boy stumbled slightly before toppling head over heels backwards. Snatching the gun out of the air with a cool calm of professionalism, Alex aimed the gun back at the fuming form of the child,

"Gotcha…" Alex said, keeping the sights trained on the child, "Now listen carefully, you're only going to get one chance; get out while you still can, because I'm going to let you live. All Omega wants is a goal that is impossible to achieve, and they would gladly kill you if it meant gaining that goal. If you stood between them and world domination, then I think they would chose world domination rather than you, wouldn't you think? So you run, and you keep running and you don't ever stop." He glared intently, waiting for the response,

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he shouted furiously, "RUN!"

The child staggered to his feet, scrabbling away on all fours heading for the nearest exit. Alex watched him leave before lowering the weapon down to his side. His foot was now aching and throbbing from performing such a terrible stunt, but he put that aside for consideration later. For now, he smiled to himself, once again picking up the plastic explosives in his hands.

TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F – TRC:F

Alex ran quickly along the rafters, the thin steel frame that held up the warehouse roof was just barely strong enough to hold his weight.

The dust slowly trickled down as he scampered across the narrow walkways that were improvised; he stopped every so often when he felt the girders shake slightly. He couldn't risk falling, not now, not when he had come so close.

His exit was simple; leave via the rooftop, the most unsuspecting place to go. Alex had taken a sneaking glance outside, and found himself on one of the higher floors of a ginormous storage facility. Omega were expecting him to find a way out, so all they had to do was secure the lower levels and he'd be trapped – or so they thought. Alex had already caught them rounding off the staircases, and he'd watched them evacuate all the other personnel out of the building. Looks like his plan to cripple their operations wouldn't be so effective after all; but he could still deal a damaging blow. Alex weighed the lump of plastic in his hand. It was his last one; the rest were dotted around the place wherever he could hide them.

Getting up into the roofing space hadn't been so hard. With Omega cordoning off the lower floors, they hadn't expected him to be climbing up around the shelves and rafters. His years spending time with his uncle climbing in the mountains had certainly helped his skills, even if it had all been to train him for moments like this.

Alex felt the girder beneath him shake again minutely, and Alex stopped dead still in his tracks once more, allowing for the vibrations to pass. It was slow work, with him wasting time for each and every quiver, time that could have been spent getting away from this place. But Alex took his pace; he couldn't risk ruining everything now.

He came to an intersection at the roof, where several metal beams interlocked with one another, crossing over many times and carrying on the other side. With his new found safety spot secure, Alex set up the last of the explosives, pushing in the metal prongs of the electronic timer he'd also uncovered in the storage closet. They were in the same crate, but he'd overlooked them; the small boy had distracted him. Alex wondered what had become of him; had he gone back to Omega and told them what happened, or had he heeded Alex's advice? Who cared? So long as Alex was here now, that was all that mattered.

Satisfied that the timer was set correctly, he moulded the pliable plastic into a crevice just above him, taking care not to lose his balance. The air was cool, and Alex could feel the breeze flowing lightly against his sweaty clammy skin. Where there was a breeze, there was a way out. He finished up his handiwork, making sure to check once more the timer was accurate, and that the explosives were secure.

He doubled his way back from where he'd come, trying to stick to the same path he'd already taken. The girders hardly gave any complaint, and Alex sought out the elusive escape he so sorely needed.

His eyes scanned the giant metal sheets that plastered the roof, searching for where one was set out against the others. He had to find his exit, and he doubted he had much time left. Taking a quick glance down, he saw that operatives were beginning to file out onto the final floor searching for him.

There were a couple of shouts, and Alex for a moment dreaded he had been spotted. Then the worst happened; the entire warehouse fell completely silent.

Alex counted the seconds, holding his breath in fear of being caught. Why was it so suddenly quiet? The eerie calm that now passed over the warehouse was short lived, as a rough menacing voice spoke out loudly,

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

It was Mr E; Alex could make out the crimson suit and shiny bald head of his. He was meandering casually down the shelves, guards on each of his side with firearms at the ready, "We promise not to hurt you too much Alex."

Silence.

The silence reigned for seconds, minutes even, but Alex kept gave up, moving as quietly and as slowly as he could he stood up, searching for the loose rafter. He was running out of time. Mr E snorted from down below, his voice carrying out across the empty expanse,

"Very well, Alex. If that's how you want to play it…"

Alex's hand brushed against a loose panel; he had a way out! Without haste, he began to frantically tug and pull with all his might at the metal hoping for it to give way easily. Looking down, Alex's heart thudded in his ears; Mr E was looking directly at him. They held eye contact for a few moments, just as Alex tore away the scrap of metal and broke out into the evening twilight. Mr E shouted something down below, and Alex could hear the marching of feet and the clack of guns. Using all his last reserves of strength, Alex heaved himself up and out through the roof just as a multitude of operatives came crashing around the corner, arms at the ready.

But then another setback; Alex's bag had snagged on the rafters, the back pocket sticking out and catching on a spike of metal. He didn't have a choice. He forcefully wrenched the bag free, but looked down in terror as the priming device for the explosives tumbled out and downwards, spiralling and clattering as it jumped from shelf to shelf. Alex watched it slip away, down into the depths of the warehouse probably never to be seen again. He would have to do without, and with no second thoughts he began dashing across the open slanted roof just as a million steel pellets ripped their way through his path.

Alex kept running, not stopping at all as the bullets bit on the back of his heels. One sliced up across the side of his thigh, and Alex winced in pain, stumbling slightly as the new wound opened up and began seeping blood. The fiery pain drove Alex on, continuing his mad sprint across the gentle slope. He spied a towering crane, with painted decent red and white stripes; it looked high enough to Alex, and he altered his course to start heading for it.

He glanced out to his left and right; Alex was in some kind of dockyard, impressively industrial. It might be disused, or perhaps dilapidated. He didn't have much time to process the information; he had to keep running. The snap of metal against metal drove Alex forward, propelling himself against his leg's protest. Another bullet clipped his shoulder, but Alex raced on, not faltering with his pace this time. He was nearly at the edge, nearly at the crane; he just had to keep running.

"Oh Alex!" a sing-song voice called out behind him, "Where do you think _your_ going?"

Alex slowed down, just short of the sheer drop downwards into grotty concrete. He must have been about six storeys up; there was no way he'd survive a fall like that…

Alex turned around, facing the devilish man Mr E. He must have found a way up onto the roof, albeit a much better way; stairs perhaps or maybe a ladder? Either way, he looked to be in better physical condition than Alex was in right now. The teen spy was grimy and dirty from his escapade in the rafters, and the filthy sweat still dampened his skin. His clothes were torn in several places, and he had many cuts and grazes along his arms and legs from crawling around in vent ducts. Along with these were the newly acquired stinging gashes across his left thigh and right shoulder; Ben was going to kill him if Mr E didn't.

"Before you kill me," Alex ventured, edging closer to Mr E, "Can I just ask a few questions?"

Mr E shrugged absently,

"If you must; go ahead."

"So I get it that you want total domination; you want the world at its knees, and you don't care how you get it. But can I just ask how? How are you going to do it? How are you going to bring the world to its knees?" Mr E laughed again, his mocking tone never failing,

"Piece by piece, my dear Alex. And you are going to help us do it; along with _all_ your friends," he smiled maliciously, "It's all been planned just so. You cannot fight your fate Alex, so give up. Accept your destiny."

Alex gave hi ma half hearted smile, managing to smirk slightly,

"We'll see…"

And with that, he turned around and made a running jump out onto the crane's grilles. His hand grasped the available metal, the rust flaking and crushing beneath his palm. Behind him he heard Mr E begin to laugh, but Alex ignored him and started to climb. His arms ached with each pull upwards, but he slowly crawled up the crane. The wind buffeted him as he made his way, his bag weighing him down. But he needed it, so he daren't let it fall down plummeting to the ground. Just a few metres up and he'd be safe.

The whirl of helicopter blades filled Alex's vision as the wind was whipped around by the screeching rotors. He was quite high up now; a fall from this height would kill him for sure. The helicopter made climbing ever more difficult,

'_Where the hell do they get these things from?' _Alex thought with bitter distaste. He was beginning to grow to dislike the infernal contraptions; they were becoming a thorn in his side.

"ALEX!" Mr E called out over a megaphone, sitting tucked up nice and neatly inside the helicopter cockpit next to the pilot, "Don't be a bother now; let's make this quick and easy for the both of us. I promise you, I won't disappoint!"

The young spy ignored him, and his hand clasped out around one of the rails at the top of the crane. He gripped it with the last ounce of strength he had and hauled himself up over the lip. The air was still slicing through him, and the helicopter had pulled up alongside him. The side door slid open to reveal Mr E who stepped out onto the platform that he and Alex now shared. His incessant and vindictive chuckling was driving Alex insane,

"What makes you think you can run, Alex? What makes you so special out of the millions we've killed? You can't hide from us; we are already everywhere. We just need you, and then everything shall be complete. We just need _you_."

"Go to hell," Alex spat at him, standing up straight. The helicopter was retreating to a more safe distance. It couldn't get too close to the structure or any of the surrounding buildings. Alex scanned around; skimming across the muddy river water and the crumbling warehouses that littered the industrial sector Alex had found himself in.

He took in the dirt tracks and the roads covered in gravel and flints. The sun was setting behind the darkened skyline, and the unnatural silence was only permeated every now and again by the wailing of the wind and by Mr E's idiotic chortling. The man was psychotic, deranged and deeply disturbed. It seemed as though the scenario of chasing Alex around and threatening him with his life was almost _amusing _to him,

"Oh Alex… Don't you know? We already are."

Alex kept his hand hidden behind his back, twisting the lid on top of his lighter three hundred and sixty degrees, arming the small grenade. He counted the seconds, waiting for the moment to strike. Mr E smiled on; unaware of the impending danger he was in, advancing upon Alex.

Alex slipped on the glasses from behind his back, and brought the sleek lighter into view. Mr E's advance halted, halfway between his steps,

"What is that?" he demanded, pointing at the silver grenade. Alex smirked,

"I'm not going to run… I'm going to jump. And you… _you_ had better cover your eyes."

Alex threw the lighter at him, and the madman's reflexes kicked in, catching the device deftly in his mottled hands. He stared at for a fraction of a second before he hurled it down in a desperate bid to evade its blinding light. Alex caught the tiny spheres of orange and white begin their equivocating spectacle before he hurled himself off the edge of the crane.

The fall down looked much longer than he'd imagined; the crane must have been impressively tall. The wind raced past his face as he freefell downwards, falling faster and faster until he thought he could be no quicker. His speed kept increasing, his body zooming down to the ground. He tried to judge himself as best he could, constantly calculating with new adjustments when best to release his hidden parachute.

Now!

He pulled the flapping cords, tugging on them violently until the parachute unfurled itself. It was a dark navy, almost indistinguishable between the urban rooftops and filthy metal. He glided downwards, still sailing at a far too great a speed. He was coming up way too fast for his landing, but he couldn't do anything about.

He braced himself for the impact, preparing to roll into the drop. His feet hit hard against the ground, kicking up dust and dirt as he tried his best to avoid any permanent debilitating damage. He landed hard on his knees, sending jarring pains up his legs and into his chest.

The side of a warehouse was heading towards him, and he tried desperately to pull away, release himself from the bag but he struggled with the buckles. The wall sped into view, his chest slamming into it heavily. The breath was knocked out of him. His body slumped against the wall, the parachute gliding silently over and folding on the other side.

He could barely sustain consciousness, his vision blurring with the tints of darkness. His hands numb from the pain fumbled a little with the strap that held him tightly to his bag, and fortunately, it came away with ease this time. He collapsed to the floor, and the only thing that drove him on and away to safety was the pounding of footsteps on the ground. Slinking away into the shadows, he barely caught sight of the fuming Mr E, clutching at his face as he desperately searched in vain for the escaping teen.

But by the time the search was declared over by his superior who was even higher than Mr E, Alex was already safely home.

**So there we have it, another chapter littered with mistakes I'm sure. I wouldn't worry about it though; I have my human spellcheck who'll point out all my errors. If he's reading this: Hi Aidan!**

**Omega's nature is laid bare to Alex. What happens now, now that Alex knows possibly the world's deadliest secret? Will he survive…; Ben's onslaught?**

**I'll keep writing as fast as I can; I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I look forward to reading your reviews! Even you, Aidan… 8D MWHAHAHA**

**Next Chapter: Alex has learnt secrets of Omega. Can he save the world from their grasp… **_**all on his own**_**? Who can he trust now that he knows their identity?**

**Thanks – K9**


	21. Answers

**Greetings everyone (including you…) I would like to thank [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE] for their dedication to reading so far into the story. This chapter marks the 2/3s point of the story, and if your reading this then you just haven't skipped to the end; you must have read the entire story. For which, I thank you…**

**But, I'm trying to keep the introduction short so you can quickly move on to reading… here come the reviews…**

**In response to reviews:**

**Thread of the Maze: I'm sorry if that freaked you out at all, just a point of coincidence, I guess… hehe ^^ I assure you, as I said at the beginning, Alex will never die. Repeat, he won't die at all. Otherwise it would be kind of pointless to call the series 'Alex Rider'. Thanks for the review anyway… it's good to see a different point of view.**

**Albany: Google translate has let me down… again. I apologise, but I shall try and interpret what Google has spat out for me to read. You're a pretty good reviewer; always writing in your own language rather than tackling my insane English. Yep, Omega has been plotting for an **_**incredibly **_**long time. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. But the question is; will Alex and co. be able to stop it in time? Thanks all the same for your review!**

**Dani9513: Sorry if I scared you; I was in one of those moods when writing responses. Hehe, thanks, I love writing with a passion! And yes… I'm sure I'm not Horowitz – unless…**

**Nope, I'm sure. I'm just a fan. Thanks for reviewing anyway!**

**Lightning and Blossoms: Glad I kept the suspense up; hard enough with all the information and whatnot. I've started to slow down on the updates, but I'm aiming for an update nice every week – preferably Sunday in my time zone; England if you hadn't guessed or found out. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Sapphire2309: Doesn't matter if you don't review each and every chapter (although that'd be best). As long as you enjoy the chapter that's fine with me. Thanks for reviewing!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Mr E **_**is**_** a disgusting individual! :D It was a bad pun. Mr E = Mystery. It was terrible, I know, but I couldn't resist. You had Mr Grin and whatnot, so why not Mr E? And yes, don't poke C4 children… even if you are specially trained, murderous and suicidal Omega operatives. Upcycling FTW! (Don't ask how I know about that… just don't)**

**Thanks for reviewing!**

**Bookluver07: I do hope that wasn't a consecutive two days, for 48 hours. Sleep is important you know… I certainly do -.-**

**Glad you're happy now that you're up to speed. It isn't often I get new readers jumping on the bandwagon and catching up with the whole story. And it may be good, but awesome may be pushing it in my books… pun intended. Hope your finales go well and stuff! :D Thanks for reviewing!**

**Chapter 21: Answers**

The silent seconds hung in the air as the new found and frightening information set in.

He wasn't even sure if they believed Alex or not; the entire situation was both surreal and unnerving. He couldn't even be sure if he was safe anymore, regardless of where he was. It wasn't just adult men and women he had to afraid of now: it was the elderly and children too. Alex felt as though he was only just scraping the proverbial infinitesimal tip of a deep, fathoming iceberg.

They had torn down his life, scrapped the very foundations of what he believed of society. It was as though there were no escaping it all, that Alex couldn't just tuck himself away and let the world carry on turning by itself, just like it had done for all its years before him. His eyes strayed to the crumpled newspaper laid on the coffee table. He nearly laughed as his gaze skimmed across the fine black print:

_**TYCOON ON THE THAMES**_

_**Shady business tycoon Sir Aidan Brock has emerged from the shadows and taken over sponsorship of the London Eye.**_

_In a last minute bid, Eon has handed over sponsorship of the wrecked London Eye to the obscure tycoon Aidan Brock after the London's iconic Ferris wheel was destroyed in a sudden terrorist attack._

_This bid comes amidst new enterprises Sir Brock is endeavouring, including new military propositions and talks with leading companies. _

_Brock's past is vague, as he has avoided the public limelight ever since he saved Alpha Industries from going bust. Alpha Industries has since profited and rose in power, but the mysterious tycoon has otherwise remained hidden and shrouded away from prying eyes._

_As for now, London mayor Boris Johnson is praising the Sir Brock for his generosity and kindness when the city is in a time of dire need, especially with the approaching 2012 Olympic Games._

It was just common front page news, the rich and the famous spread out across reams of wafer thing paper in ink; people who didn't really deserve the glamour and luxury that was being handed to them on a platter. If anything, it should be the heroes who get plastered across the news for all the public to see, soldiers making front page news, charity workers earning the millions of pounds. People like Alex, who have saved the world several times without so much as announce of recognition.

He sighed; who was he kidding? He did what he did not because he wanted to, but because he had to. For his safety or others, it was always for the greater good. Fighting Omega, defending the country; it was all for the safety of the public.

Alex had expected the blank reactions from K-Unit and Blue, but this was absurd. Nobody moved and nobody talked; a sinister calm lingered. It had been quite the surprise for Alex – even in his shell-shocked and exhausted state – that all of his unit and Garfield himself had been searching for him. His judgement of time must have slipped, as it was now past midnight, and Alex could feel the comforting call of his soft bed awaiting him. Couldn't they hurry up and snap already?

"_Organisation of Manipulation, EspionaGe and Assassination_?" Garfield murmured to himself, "Yes… yes, that _would_ make sense."

"Are you serious?" Snake asked, leaning against the far wall having not chosen to sit down, "Some unstoppable criminal agency? I'm sorry, but this is unbelievable…" Alex shrugged, thanking Ben as he came in with a plate heralding a deliciously warm and crispy bacon sandwich. Before the plate had even touched the table Alex was wolfing down the food greedily, starved from the exhilaration and exhaustion. It was perfect, as always: another one of Ben's inexplicable traits to find the food he likes most and to cook it exactly how he likes it.

"But unconnected homicidal murders, random explosions and dangerous confrontations left right and centre aren't?" Lion snapped huffing to himself.

"'How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be truth.'" Garfield said absent-mindedly, making peculiar movements and gestures with his hands, his eyes closed in concentration. Everyone turned to look at him, quizzical expressions across all their brows as they watched him continue his weird motions, one hand flicking off to the side, another counting down the fingers on one hand. Sometimes he would shake his head, his hands momentarily pausing in mid-flight before he carries on as if nothing had happened. It was the silence that eventually brought him out of his trance-like stupor. His eyes cracked open a little, noticing the questioning looks he was being given, "What?" he said, surprised, "Sherlock Holmes was a great man – even if he _was_ fictional."

"But why say it then; the quote I mean?" Wolf asked, smothering the others stunted beginnings of arguments or dismisses. Garfield opened his eyes fully, his hands dropping down into his lap,

"What I mean is that we can't rule out what we don't believe; only what we know to be untrue. Then, by elimination, whatever we have left, no matter how bizarre or outlandish it may seem, will be the answer," he explained, "So, for instance, we now know that Omega have a base of operations somewhere within the city limits, and somewhere in an industrial sector. We can't rule out the possibility that they have other enterprises set up elsewhere, but we know for certain know that there is somewhere nearby with potential leads."

Alex finished off his last mouthfuls, wiping away the crumbs from the corner of his lips,

"They'll stop at nothing to get what they want," he repeated for probably the thousandth time, "If that means using children, or killing half the population then they'll do it; whatever it takes."

Ben nodded in agreement,

"Then what do we do? I would have assumed we'd have gone to MI6 or MI5 now with the information?"

"We can't do that," Garfield blurted out; "We can't…" he trailed off slightly, failing under the once again stern glares from his unit.

"Care to explain?" Snake asked.

"Everybody is ignoring the important forgotten issues like, oh I don't know, _who killed Blunt_?" He looked around the room, gauging their responses, sighing thereof at the lack of any, "Blunt was in a sealed cell, enclosed away from anybody else in the outside room. The only person ever to step in or out was Mrs Jones, who dismissed the guards and later left wearing different clothing then when she entered. I spoke to the guards and they can barely remember anything about what happened that night, and blood tests show traces of Amnicon. Mrs Jones was up to something; it is more than likely that s_he _was Blunt's killer."

Alex was ready for the abrupt shock despite the fact he had seen this coming. He commended himself for only letting his jaw hang open slightly as he processed the facts. There was no tangible truth that it _was_ truly Mrs Jones whom had slaughtered Blunt; but had the circumstances been any different and his murder by her hands then Alex would have congratulated her. Blunt was a disease, a corruption. He could have hardly blamed her for snapping and finally taking action upon herself to rid the world of the loathsome man. But could she have carried out the killing under other's orders?

Could she really be an Omega operative? Alex had known her his whole time during his espionage years, and never once had he known Mrs Jones to be a traitor, let alone easily wavered by another's views. But on the other hand, had he ever really known her at all? Mr Smithers had shocked him with a skin suit, Ash had betrayed him on Dragon Nine and K-Unit had apologised for their snide mocking back at Brecon Beacons. Alex knew all too well that people can keep a mask in place while they hide their true natures. He, himself, had kept such a mask in place ever since the day his uncle died – a cold, blank mask that shrouded him from other's judgements. And he was just a teenage boy; a highly trained MI6 chief could fix herself a mask and cope as if it were a second skin.

"So what do we do with her then?" Alex asked, his voice a little distant even to him, almost detached as though he were discussing a criminal – a traitor," Do we confront her? Should we go to Mr Silver; what? You're the one who handles internal affairs, not me. What do we do?"

"We keep this to ourselves for the time being," Garfield said, leaning forwards and snatching up the crumpled newspaper, glaring at the headline, "When we have everything laid out and sorted, with proper evidence, only then do we go to whom we think we can trust. Who's to say that this doesn't go down all the way? Mr Silver could be Omega too; anyone can – Mr Smithers, Mr Cartman, anybody. We have to tread _very _carefully; one wrong move and we'll be silenced by them, just like I was with my memories." Snake sighed, shaking his head with a tut,

"Have they _still_ not come back?"

"I haven't found the trigger yet, nor I have I been able to piece together any ague memory I have. But it brings up another issue," Garfield folded out the paper properly, half focused on the rest of the group, "Why didn't Omega kill me when they had the chance? I knew too much – they killed Blunt when he knew too much – so killing me would have been the easiest and most convenient option; yet here I am. _Somebody_ injected me with Amnicon instead of letting me die. Why, I'm not sure, but I have a sneaking suspicion that whoever it was has some connection to me, and either pitied me or took a sympathetic turn when faced with my near-dead broke body." Wolf's hand clenched slightly on the armrest, Alex noted, but left it be, "Or, it could be that Omega's intention was never to kill me; Alex, you said that they needed you, and each time they were trying to kill you was to _prepare you_?" Alex nodded,

"This man, Mr E, he also mentioned that he needed you as well. Something about… _projects_?" he glanced warily around the room, "He referred to us as Project Rider and Project Viking, and that they needed me to remember my training whilst you matured. Also, he kept talking about their history, that they had everything planned out from the start, that they had to get others to do their work, people like us. I've already told you all this… what use is it? We know barely anything _still_ and they're out there and on the prowl while w sit here and debate about what is and what isn't!" Alex finished exasperatedly, huffing as he slumped back into his seat. A warm calloused hand fell upon his shoulder, and Alex followed the belonging arm up to Ben, who smiled softly an apologetically at Alex.

Garfield gasped slightly, dropping the paper back down and clicking his fingers,

"That's it! I remember now!" he exclaimed, looking around excitedly with an expectant look.

"Remember what? You're starting to remember?" Wolf asked, a smidgeon of Blue's excitement seeping into his voice. Garfield shook his head,

"Not starting to; I _remember_. Everything! I know what Omega is after. I know what they're planning. It all makes sense!" To his credit, even Eagle sighed as K-Unit all scowled at Garfield as he danced around the subject that was all on their minds,

"What makes sense?" Alex sighed irritably. The technician abruptly stood up, and paced over to the fireplace,

"What Omega wants; they want us. They want _us. _Ever since they've been around, according to this Mr E, they've relied upon others to do their work for them. It's quite literally in their name; Organisation of Manipulation. They twist others into doing what they want, like Blunt. They forced him to recruit you despite going against several ethic laws. And you, Rider-boy, they manipulated you into coming back to England by killing the Pleasures. All this time we think we've been doing the right thing, going here doing that, yet all along it's been exactly what they've wanted." He turned around, elbow resting on the mantel as he bore down with his gaze into the charred ashes of the fire, "But they don't want us, per say. They want what we stand for."

"I'm not sure I understand." Alex hesitated, unsure as to what Garfield was getting at, "What do you mean _what we stand for_?" The other teen glanced over from the fireplace, a tiny quick look before he stared back at the dust,

"We've been made Alex; we've been conditioned into the perfect spies. Our lives have been strung out and plotted from the day we were born. We are projects; pawns of Omega for their greater purpose. They want control, and the best way to get that is to tear down the powers that have already been put in place. The recession has made the country weak; a damaging blow to the Government would cripple it for sure. But like I said; Omega gets others to do the work for them. So, how do you create a scenario where you can bring down a country with absolutely no effort at all?"

Ben frowned,

"Place operatives on the inside?" he suggested, but Garfield shook his head. Lion shrugged, joining in,

"I dunno; let them tear themselves apart on their own?"

"Close, but no," he looked over from where he was standing, his attention now fixed back on the group, "You show the world the country's darkest secret and then sit back and let the chaos ensue. Mr Riddle a while ago told Alex that Harold Bulman once had the idea to publish a book entailing all of Alex's missions. Alex declined, Mi6 were involved and Harold was silenced. Later, he went and sold that information to Desmond McCain, and was killed by him after telling him who Alex was. I was following up the records after Alex had made me see the connection between Omega and the entire series of events. I checked Bulman's history profile, and he made a bizarre visit prior to seeing Desmond. Some random phone call and he disappeared for half an hour before he came back on our radars. I propose the theory that Omega gave Harold the idea to sell his information, or manipulated him into doing so. Because that's the key; that's the connection between everything – Omega already had the plot and exposed Harold to it so that they could accelerate their plan. Desmond had dealings with Greenfields, Alex went there and I later cleaned up. The connection is us; it's Alex. We're they're plot to bring down the British Government.

"By announcing to the public that their lovely government – the people who are supposed to be justified and righteous – have been using mere children to do their dirty work will denounce any faith the public have in them. But in order to do that, Omega needed evidence."

"Why do you say that in the past tense?" Eagle asked uneasily. Garfield glowered a little, but mainly at himself, for unsaid reasons,

"Because they already have the evidence – or more accurately, I have the evidence."

The room fell silent, but Garfield caught himself before a troublesome misunderstanding took place,

"I mean, I'm not Omega," he flustered, "But I've been gathering information on Omega for months. And I thought the secret to Omega lay in Alex's past because they took such an interest in him, but I was wrong. They manipulated me again; by collecting information on me and Alex's past missions, I now have collated an entire database that stores all our history. All Omega needs to do now is to step in, pluck out the information and then broadcast it to the world. Maybe that's why they didn't kill me and live up to their name of Assassination; because of the encryption on the database. Nobody can decrypt my encoding, and so Omega realise this and only erased my memories in order to preserve the data.

"But that doesn't matter; what matters is that I have helped them. They used me, lived up to their name of espionage as well by spying on us… God, I've been so blind and useless!" He moaned, sitting down dejectedly on the sofa. Wolf put an arm around the teen's shoulders,

"You couldn't have known about what they were after," he comforted, "They've had us all duped."

"They brought Alex back to the UK because I was slow at bringing their plan to order. So they sped up the process, forced me to work harder by surfacing and trying to take shots at Alex. I got so wrapped up in trying to find the answers that I overlooked the impossible."

"'…_when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be truth._'" Lion echoed from before. The entire unit fell silent again, and only the generic tick of the clock from the hall pricked each second of the quiet.

"So we need a plan of action," Alex said, breaking the silence, "If Omega is ready to strike at any moment and _if_ Mrs Jones isn't too far away from the data, then we need to be able to act fast when the time comes. Garfield; can you install any software or hardware that will tell you if anyone is trying to download or steal the database?" Garfield nodded numbly,

"There already is, but I can fine tune it a little if you want…"

"Good, you do that. Ben; can you keep tabs on Mrs Jones, and anybody else you may think is involved?" Ben nodded,

"Sure, I can do that, but what are you suggesting? That we take on the whole of MI6 and MI5 if it means we have to?"

"I intend on taking on the whole world if it means protecting my identity. If Omega goes through with this, then it won't just be the government they'll be crushing; it'll be my life as well. I don't think I could live any kind of life if people know who I _really_ am."

The silence returned once again, a lingering shadow that seemed to befall the unit, and had been plaguing them all evening. The mood was sombre, a bitter revelation of their foe. The prospect seemed bleak, but Garfield and Alex were looking more up to the task of it. Even Ben and Wolf had taken a slight thrill in being back in the firing line,

"So it's settled then?" Wolf asked, addressing anyone in the room, a general statement that needed no real answer, "What does the unit do in the meantime?"

"Keep your eye out; keep us safe. We may need to move at a moment's notice, so just be at the ready at all times," Alex defined, standing up, "Other than that; welcome to war."

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The darkened corridors had a sinister edge to them as Garfield prowled along the halls. He knew he was exposed as he tried to act casual yet stealthy; the long winding corridors of the Clock-tower were intricate and closely monitored. He would never know if one of the security guards was an operative, so he had to act cautious. As though he _should_ be there, not that he wanted to.

Although the lights were on, only a soft dim illumination marked out Garfield's path. For safety reasons and to keep its existence secret from the public, the tower was always shifted into a state of hibernation; it was still functional, but only to a limited capacity. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, but it was a sacrifice they had to make in order to stay positioned in such a sought after location.

He was currently wandering some of the maintenance passages, the routes only technicians tended to take to get from A to B as swiftly as possible. Even some of the higher up management staff didn't realise such alleys existed, and took the obvious lifts and stairwells provided to get around. Mr Smithers and Blue had gone over the plans, and had even made special adjustments here or there for their own benefit.

Garfield glanced at his watch; it was going past midnight. Wolf would be expecting him back within the hour – the teen had already promised that. He had suggested making the changes to the database as soon as possible, which meant straight away. He couldn't risk mucking up the situation even more; he'd done enough damage as it is. It was the least he could do to protect his friends.

He stopped in his tracks, the thought having come naturally to them. Mental notes and figures dashed his mind; could he really call them friends? He'd never had _real_ friends before; only acquaintances and allies. Were K-Unit, Alex and everyone else his friends?

'_Yes… yes they are' _he thought to himself, the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips. It was a novel feeling, to have _friends_.

He came to a service elevator, the panelling above the lift telling him so. The glimmer of light behind the glass sign flickered menacingly as though the power was being drained, but Garfield knew otherwise. The mock-hibernation often acted as the perfect deterrent for invading forces; they mistook the low lighting as a sign of lack of power, and struck with too much force. So much so they fell into the biggest trap the tower had to offer.

Garfield was heading into that trap right now. He couldn't help but feel a little claustrophobic as he clambered into the cramped capsule, and slightly sick as it lurched horrendously upwards. They were only service elevators, after all.

The lift pulled agonisingly slowly behind a console, and Garfield slipped out into what would have been the trap. The main hall of the Clock-tower could often act as a bunker, or a giant cell. Hidden steel doors could slide down over any exit the instant someone without clearance stepped inside – or without permission. If that were to happen, only those with a special access code cold unlock the doors to the outside world. If not, then you were trapped until you were freed by armed guards.

Manoeuvring himself out of the lift, Garfield stopped once again dead in his tracks as he heard muffled voices echo out across the main hall. He recognised one of them, but the other was more… mysterious. He couldn't place a face to the sound, which was only odd because Garfield had memorised all names, faces and voices of all staff allowed into the main hall – an obsessive yet useful bad habit he'd picked up somewhere along the line. He crept away from the lift and hid behind some databanks. The voices were much clearer now from where he was standing, and peering round the edge he could see two figures standing high up on one of the upper levels, near to the edge.

Mr Silver was talking to someone who had their back turned towards Garfield, although the hall was empty and void of life, they were talking in hushed tones,

"An interesting proposal, you make sir, but what use is it of to me?" Mr Silver asked, smoothing back his grey hair.

"Protection," came the simple reply, "and convenient connections to many other assets."

"And I suppose that these assets have come from the fact that you've been avoiding the media and government for quite some time?" Mr Silver sneered, his face pulling back grotesquely.

"Yes," another blunt reply from the unidentified individual, "That's what makes this so unique. I can provide a service that your government cannot. You are restricted by the public eye and by your regulations. I, on the other hand, can do as I please. If I wanted to, I could purchase a whole stockade of weapons and no one would be the wiser. Or I could buy out several businesses and no one would care. Why; because I'm not _restricted _as you are, and if you were to join with me, then that service would be at your disposal." Mr Silver grunted in displeasure,

"What your suggesting is more of a _sponsorship_!" he growled, "You're commercialising national security, for heaven's sakes!"

"Perhaps," What was it with these blunt replies? "But then again, it _is_ money that makes the world go round. And if you want to keep the world turning jut as it has been doing for these four billion years then I suggest you consider my proposal wisely. Not just for the agency's sake, but for the children."

"Don't you dare bring them into this," Mr Silver interrupted before the other figure could continue, "Don't you _dare…_"

"But why, Mr Silver?" the figure asked, "That is the sole reason I am doing this, the other aspects as simply a side effect – a _bonus_, if you will. The teenagers need protecting, and I am offering a complete and perfect service to do it. So what do you say; deal?"

The other person held out their hand, Garfield could make out the hairs on the back and he furiously began working through his mind to find people who suited the physicals traits.

Mr Silver debated within his own mind for a second or two, weighing up his options before he himself reached out and shook the hand,

"Deal."

The other turned slightly, just enough so that Garfield could see his face.

The man was relatively tall, maybe average height. He had a mop of short black hair that was cut neatly and trimmed. The image screamed business man, and Garfield's suspicions were confirmed when he saw the man's face. It was Aidan Brock, the tycoon from the paper.

There was no mistaking the similarity; it was definitely Sir Brock. The photo that had been taken and used on the front page was identical to the man he saw now; the darkened stubble, the watchful eyes and the rigid body language. Garfield saw a man who was more concerned about his secrecy and his identity rather than his looks and his impression. The lack of recent shaving indicated Aidan was prone to forgetting the task, but often remembered from time to time, shown by the fact the stubble was trimmed as much as his hair. If the hair was cut so neatly, then he someone regularly cut his hair in the same fashion each time, otherwise there would be signs of interference in the hairline. This man before Garfield was careful, and only trusted those he had built that trust in. The body language, the voice and the eyes all suggested that he was wary even in these empty confines – someone who never let their guard down.

The clothes told another story. No suit; just a simple hoody and jeans. Extremely un-business-like, but judging by the prior conversation, Garfield could tell otherwise. Aidan blended in with common surroundings; a suit would just single him out as wealthy and influential. His casual clothing mad him less of a target, and more of an approachable man. He would slip right under any spy's nose any day.

But all this begged a much bigger and much more unnerving question; what was a shady business tycoon like Aidan Brock doing talking to the chief of MI5?

The two figures were turning to leave, when suddenly Aidan turned back around to stare in the direction of where Garfield was hiding. As quickly and as quietly as possible, Garfield slipped back behind his cover and began weaving his way away from his vantage point.

"What's the matter?" He heard Mr Silver call.

"…Nothing." It was the last thing Garfield heard as the two of them left, the metallic doors of the lift sliding shut as he finally risked a peak from behind a desk. Sighing, he climbed out from under the steel worktop, and began searching for the main computers, pushing the unsettling meeting of Sir Aidan Brock and Mr Silver out of his mind.

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"Do you ever feel helpless Ben?"

Ben stopped brushing his teeth mid way between one stroke and the next. In the slightly steamed mirror before him he could make out Alex leaning in the doorway, half clutching with one hand at his elbow. He finished off by spitting out the remainder of his toothpaste,

"Pardon?" he asked, knowing full well what Alex had said but wanting a bit more clarity.

"Have you ever felt helpless; like you feel as though you're just being used and that you have no say in the matter?" Alex said, is voice barely above a whisper. He looked troubled,

"All the time," Ben said, trying to be honest and sincere, "I work for the government; it's kind of hard _not_ to be used all the time."

"You know what I mean."

Ben turned around, walking out the bathroom as Alex moved out of the way and into his own room. Ben followed just as Alex jumped into his bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. The older spy perched himself on the edge of the rocking chair that had been left in Alex's room, not having been asked to be removed. It had become more of a permanent fixture in the teen's bedroom.

"I always feel like I'm being used," Ben began softly, "I felt used when I had to lie to me unit about applying for my agency status, because you're only allowed to inform one close family member at that time. I felt used when I had to turn a blind eye to an interrogation that had turned brutal when I was ordered to. I felt used when Mrs Jones ordered me not to get emotionally involved during the Snakehead Operation. You don't have to be a kid to still be bullied into things you don't agree with."

Alex didn't say anything for a moment. He was still pondering Mrs Jones; could she really be part of Omega? And if so, then that would mean Alex had been lied to all that time when he thought he had an ally at the very least. But half of it didn't make sense,

"Mrs Jones was the one who granted me an American Visa… if she was part of Omega then why would she do that, only to force me to return months later?"

"Maybe because that was what Omega wanted?" Ben suggested sitting back, "Or maybe it would have looked suspicious if she hadn't have appealed to you after you lost Jack; who knows? Either way you went to America, and that's all we have at the moment. We're probably only just tapping at the beginnings of this." He too paused for a moment, "Alex, I wouldn't worry about it; we're all together on this. K-Unit is going to keep their eye out, Garfield is going to set up our safeguards and I can keep a tab on Mrs Jones. We're getting everything sorted, so relax."

"How can I relax when there after me?" Alex snapped, the fatigue wearing on is mind, "Or, more precisely, after what I stand for; I feel so exposed now. It's like I haven't been able to do a thing all my life to stop it coming to this point… like all my life was planned down to the second…" Ben sighed,

"I don't know Cub… I don't know. But I doubt that Omega had that much control over your life; I believe we decide our own destiny – not some criminal."

"I just hope your right Ben…" Alex trailed off, staring uneasily at his feet that poked the duvet up.

'_I really do…'_

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The flickering lights were a great pain to Garfield as he struggled to make out the simplest of keys. Each tiny button was barely showing as he tattled away at the keyboard. Firewalls and programing littered the dim screen; he forged his way through layers of coding, seeking out what he wanted.

Even his own encryption puzzled him slightly; the ever-changing zeroes and ones of binary should have been simple enough to crack, but yet he was finding it difficult just to wade through basic subroutines. But this was what he was good at, building and forming a solution to a problem; looking right through at it and working backwards. It was what he had been trained to do; what he was conditioned to do…

His slowed fleetingly as thoughts of Omega once again beleaguered his reasoning. If they were to suppose that Omega were telling the truth, that what Mr E had said hadn't been some fabricated lie, then that would mean not only Alex's but his own life as well had been plotted from the start. Could his parents' death have been just an accident – a freak house fire in only which _he _alone survived? Or had Omega killed his parents, or abducted him and placed him into a home? He would never have known; Omega has operatives everywhere, maybe even in his old care home, which would explain the reason why they cared so little. Maybe his life with that estranged man had been a ploy – a ploy to mould him into a tool for their own gain.

He was brought out of his reverie as the screen in front of him glowed even brighter. He'd forced his way past the restricting barriers; now all he had to do was install the new firewalls.

It took no more than a few seconds, only a fraction of the time it had taken him getting in. The system obediently accepted the new coding and beeped in confirmation. No matter how smart or complex you could make a machine, there was always a way inside – always. Garfield mentally congratulated himself on proving his own theory as he covered his tracks and wiped the digital history clean. He couldn't leave anything behind to raise suspicion; he already had doubts about most of the internal staff, let alone Mrs Jones.

The teen turned around, only to be face with a girl dressed in a long raincoat, her black strands of hair obscuring half of her face. She looked flustered, but smiled pleasantly when she noticed Garfield staring at her with a mixed expression of shock and anger,

"Hi…" she said, uncharacteristically cheery. Garfield stammered at the girl's amiable approach,

"Um… hi?" he hesitated, his brain in a futile bid to keep up, "…Who are you? And what are you doing here?" He tried to sound stern and aggressive, but his tone lacked the emotion; all he came across as was an astonished kid, "I mean how did you get in here?" he corrected, a bit more authority coming back into his voice. The girl giggled, brushing away her hair from her face,

"You gave me access silly," she smiled, a row of sparkling teeth that lit up even in the poor lighting. Garfield quickly scanned her face; the freckles, the dazzling blue eyes, everything. He'd seen her before, but he couldn't recall where…

"No I didn't," he snapped, "I would have remembered handing out high security clearance to teenage girls. Now I suggest you stay where you are or else…"

"Or else what; you'll call security?" she giggled again, this time sounding a little more malicious, "Then you'd have to explain what _you _were doing here as well. Good idea, the firewalls, but that's not going to keep them. I would work on that encryption of yours, make it harder to decode. And as to the reason why I have access that you haven't granted is because you can't remember…" she walked over, her raincoat billowing open. She was wearing a formal dress, a sleek black all in one that draped down from her chest and covered her thighs. It was cut around one side of the stomach, something Garfield would suppose to be fashionable, and sequins sparkled and glittered along the hems.

His mind once again was whipped up into frenzy, ripping through all his knowledge. He was going to have to take an aspirin after this; he was having a way too exciting evening.

The dress meant she had been attending an event of some sort; guessing by the faint smell of tobacco it had been an adult soirée. The girl's teeth were far from being poisoned by the taint of smoke and nicotine, and her breath was too clean. Somebody else had been smoking around her, but the aroma was rich; an expensive tobacco then, only used in the higher priced cigarettes. But that was impossible; cigarettes had an ugly look to them, so were never seen at such exquisite events. Garfield doubted that a young girl like her would be hanging around with the ladies with cigarette holders, thus ruling out the cigarette theory entirely. Cigars – somebody had been smoking a cigar around her; her father perhaps? No, not her father. There was haunted look in her eyes, like she'd seen too much. Garfield had seen that look before, and knew it far too well.

So she was fatherless… no, parentless. The manner in which she held herself was unnaturally adult, the dress, the jewellery; no mother would allow her child to dress up like that if their father had died, and especially wouldn't allow her to dabble with men smoking exotic cigars. An uncle then? That was impossible as well, a soirée and an uncle would never mix; if the uncle was attending parties and taking their ward with them then they certainly wouldn't allow them to dress themselves like that; the memory of her parent's would act as a deterrent. So the girl was going alone? It had to be the only answer; the independence oozed from every pore of her body, the charisma, the maturity. She had made her way inside a top secret governmental building with out so much as tripping a single alarm. This girl knew how to handle herself, even when faced with MI5's top ranking agent; Garfield felt a shiver run down his spine. She was only a few steps away from him now.

"What do you mean 'I can't remember'?" Garfield ventured, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl as she meandered around the consoles.

"What I mean is that I've been careful," she responded cryptically, "We've met so many times before, and each time you've forgotten. Amnicon is very useful, you know."

Garfield's blood froze. Amnicon? Was she being serious; was she telling the truth?

"We've met before?" he replied, trying to keep his questions vague and open to complicated responses.

"Yes," she answered, turning to lean on the desk he was at, "I had to keep explaining who I was and what I was doing in order for you to believe me. But now I can't… I have orders not to. Phase 1 is approaching, and I can't interfere anymore. You'll know the truth when the time comes."

"Truth… what truth?" Garfield asked as the girl circled him like a vulture ready to pounce on their prey, "Who _are_ you?" Could she be Omega? It was plausible, but she would have stopped him from protecting the data, and even suggested a better method of security. She could have easily snuck up on him and killed him then and there. They could have done it more subtly as well, so no; this girl before him was most definitely an operative. Then _who _is she?

"You'll remember soon enough; when the clock strikes thirteen and when the apple falls, then you shall know me."

The lights flickered again, cutting out just as Garfield was about to ask more questions. Darkness consumed the hall, and mere seconds passed as he heard the fumble of footsteps and the clash of metal,

"Wait!" he called out as the lights sputtered back into life. But it was too late; the girl in the raincoat was gone, her ridiculous – yet ominous prophecy still echoing around inside his head. They were all just more questions for him to answer.

But he would find the answers; he always did.

**So there we have it; albeit a little shorter than usual, but I've been awfully busy. Coursework, get-togethers, birthdays, work and so on… And my apologies for it being a little later than usual as well; I'm trying to return the schedule back to updates every Sunday (Well, that's Sunday in my time zone; whatever day it is in yours).**

**So, we're still keeping with the mysteries even though some of our questions have been answered. Omega's cat is out the bag, but now we're posed with more disconcerting questions:**

**Who is the girl in the raincoat, and what is she after?**

**A strange prophecy? Could Alex's and co.'s lives have been dictated from the start, and this is just an example?**

**Who is Sir Aidan Brock, and what is he up to with Mr Silver?**

**Mrs Jones is now under the spotlight; is she all that she seems?**

**What will happen now to Alex with Omega breathing down his neck?**

**Will I be able to write another (more aptly lengthened) chapter in time for next week?**

**We'll see. Now, something I forgot last chapter:**

**Monkey DeRanged has suggested a side story involving Wolf and Garfield. I am willing to write this, and have many possibilities lain out already. Would people want to read that kind of stuff? Message me or write in a review to me your ideas or interest about the plot line. As I said, it will have to be set after the current story now, so it will take a while.**

**Thanks to all those who are reviewing and subscribing to alerts and whatnot; it means a lot to me, and gives me that warm fuzzy feeling whenever I feel I'm doing well. Gosh, I'm such a big kid… nevertheless, thanks!**

**A/N: I may have to keep coming back to this chapter and updating it; I think I've probably missed out half the major plot points, and I'll have to come back and put them in. If I mention anything in the future that doesn't make sense, point it out and I'll take a look. Other than that, I'm sorry if I've missed anything.**

**Next Chapter: Everyone is on edge; can you lead a normal life whilst criminals work behind the shadows?**

**(And btw, is spellcheck happy?)**

**Thanks – K9**


	22. Leisure

**So, as some may have noticed/heard I have changed the name of my fan fiction to The Rider Conspiracy. If it was already called that when you began reading, then ignore this; this never happened… ¬_¬**

**In response to reviews:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Well, when I say prophecy, I mean a more of forewarning. I couldn't for the life of me think of any other word to describe it other than 'prophecy'. Bad writer's block moment. And, coincidentally, I was watching Star Trek too… funny how these things happen. Thanks for taking the time to review.**

**Lightning and Blossoms: Yep, Garfield's back in action. We'll just have to see how he'll react to standing in the firing line. We've already seen Alex…**

**Iamawsome: Thanks for your review (even as brief as it was). Lets me know that people are still reading this :D**

**Qwtong: I will make more chapters, just give me time. Hard work, this is. Also, I'm pretty sure that Aidan Brock knows who he is, and that I don't need to elaborate. So yeah… nice try. I'm glad your enjoying the story, and keep reading please!**

**To those of you who are reading **_**this**_** and haven't reviewed**__**(and I know that you are, and who you are), take note of the people above. These friendly, kind souls have taken a few seconds out of their day to write a couple of lines with comments. You could very easily do the same; you don't even have to like it, just give a bit of constructive criticism or parts you didn't really like and I'll take it on board. Unless of course you are busy… or don't have the time… or under similar circumstances…**

**If you have any suggestions/ideas for gadgets, characters, events or stories, please PM me, or send me an email. I won't mind; after all, I need to expand my horizons as it were.**

**Onto Chapter 22: Leisure.**

_A dim glow of artificial light filled the apartment, casting flickering shadows across the room. A laptop was open up on a pull out table in front of a motionless man, the computer that was technically his wards. He had been forced to use a Guest profile, after he begged to use it. Normally, Tristan Alvarez wouldn't have stooped to such a low level, but he daren't ask a member of his unit, nor would he ever be seen in a library. The screen was still on, a window displaying several images of different properties up for sale. The prices were far too extortionate, a result of a badly instigated system; they were well out of Wolf's range. His military salary could barely cover the cost of himself, let alone that of another. If he didn't find somewhere which he could both afford with better standards than where he was now, he'd be happy. Otherwise, he not only let down his young ward, but also Wolf himself for keeping him stuck in this grotty apartment._

_The TV flickered silently all the while, dull images dancing across the usually blank surface. It had been muted. An eerie quiet hung in air as Wolf lay back, seemingly asleep on the sofa. His breaths were few and shallow, as though he really were asleep. But behind his half closed eyes, his mind was abuzz with frustration and conflict._

_Wolf had – for most of his life – remained in control of whatever situation crossed his path, be it on the battlefield or at home; he'd always dealt with it the best he could. But right now he felt out of his depth. He shouldn't feel like that, but he did. And there was nothing he could do to calm his nerves. _

_He growled, breaking the silence. He was an SAS captain: he shouldn't be acting like this! Or was it because of the sleeping teen in the other room. Was he like this because of Pup?_

_He stood up, blood rushing back into his legs from sitting there for too long. He fought against the prickling sensation as tiny needles dug on the inside of his skin. With half clumsy steps he crept through discarded cans (of Coke, not of beer: he wasn't _that_ much of a slob) and tiptoed up to the door that had once been his room. _

_The door was held slightly ajar, and Wolf, by the mild light cast inside, could make out the form of Garfield sprawled out on the cheap bed. He'd only been in for about five minutes before he'd slunk off to the bedroom. He must've been out like a light, which was far better than the previous evenings where he had heard Garfield's expertly muffled groans due to nightmares. Wolf had refused to confront him about it, not until it became too severe and the situation got serious. For now, he would let Pup come to him if he needed help – not that Wolf ever thought he would; he worked himself like a machine when it came to his job and acted just like one the rest of the time. The hectic activities of the day had taken their toll on Garfield, who was showing no signs of such nightmares now. Perhaps that was a good thing. Or perhaps not… Wolf wasn't exactly the psychologist expert. He'd have to ask Ben; he was the only member who seemed to be able to understand Wolf's worries. _

_The brief thought of Ben brought back all the depressing notions of MI6 and Omega. Should he really be involving himself with such a large scale conspiracy; his whole career would be at stake if they were wrong. He could be demoted – or worse – dishonourably dismissed. Taking on not just a criminal organisation that has supposedly twisted every move a country has made, but also the country itself. Could that even be done?_

_A stifled mumble and a whine brought his attention back to Garfield. His face was twisted slightly into a grimace of pain; he still wasn't over the damage of the blast. Wolf made a note to ask Snake about his painkillers. Another example of just how useless he was with dealing with an actual kid, rather than just spouting off false promises of how he could be a good parent. Maybe he'd made a mistake…_

_Wolf sighed, pulling the door closed, hearing the lock click softly. What could he do? He was supposed to be the person to protect Pup, not let him gallivant off on some campaign against an omnipotent criminal. Tonight had just highlighted the fact that Wolf was powerless when it came to helping Garfield. He was a soldier, not a spy; how was he supposed to help?_

_His eyes drifted over to his mobile, which lay silent on top of the kitchenette counter. An IPhone 4 (It had been bought by one of his siblings for keeping in touch. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember which; and in all honesty hardly used it except for calls and messages.) A useless, petty idea crossed his mind, but he reached for it anyway; he couldn't think of anything else to do._

_Deftly his thumb chose the contacts, and flicked through his list until he came to the number he wanted._

_He pressed the phone against his ear, the dull generic tone bleeping every few seconds. It was nearly a minute before the recipient picked up,_

"…_Hello?" Ben drawled his voice evident with exhaustion._

"_Fox… I need. I need help." Wolf hesitated, reluctant to ask for help._

"_Help?" Ben said all sleep gone now and replaced with curiosity, "What kind of help?" Wolf sighed,_

"_I don't know what I should do with Pup. It's just that with Omega and everything I feel as though I'm slacking off while he's off fighting some evil force. It should be the other way round, if anything. He's a teenager, not a secret agent Ben."_

_He heard Ben chuckle slightly on the other end of the phone, rewarding him with a growl back from Wolf. He hated being mocked, even if it was in good nature._

"_Trust me that feeling isn't just because of Omega. That's being a parent for you. I'm getting like that too, but I suppose it might not be as worse for me as it is for you, since I work for MI6 and all," he paused for a moment, before continuing, "You know, you could take him out for the day."_

"_I beg your pardon?" Wolf asked, unknowing if he heard correctly,_

"_You could take Garfield out for the day. Go anywhere, I don't know – the cinema? I'm taking Alex to my brothers' restaurant to eat out for the night. He deserves a break from death defying chases and standing up against head operatives. No, scratch that; he _needs_ a break. I think I've lost count of the number of bruises and cuts he has. Even the one's he thinks I don't know about…"_

"_So I should go see a film or something, yeah?" Wolf questioned for affirmation. _

"_Yep," Ben replied, "And whatever you do, don't bring up the topic of Omega. It'll only ruin the day. Tomorrow needs to be a day of relaxation; it'll probably the last and only time they can forget about _them_ for a day."_

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The murmur of children playing and cars going past filled the air of the park. The weather was surprisingly pleasant, considering the previous storm, and then sudden heat wave. Three teens all sat around a park bench, idly chatting away as the morning passed and shifted into afternoon. It had been quite a long while since they'd last met like this, and Tom, Mel and Ella all relished in the comfort of each others presence.

"Are you sure Alex and Garfield aren't coming?" Ella asked once more, despite having asked six times prior.

"They aren't answering their mobiles, and I got an obscure text off the pair of them to stay vigilant and that they might not be able to see us for a while." Tom answered for the seventh time. Ella could be stubborn when she wanted to be,

"Did they mention anything about Omega?" she asked in a hushed tone, "I heard about some kind of Police activity down by these abandoned docks, but other than that I've heard nothing so far."

Tom shook his head, unsure himself as to what had happened to his other male friends. Not that he was complaining; he had Mel by his side without any of them ruining the moment. The only reason Ella was here was because his girlfriend had felt sorry for her and invited her to tag along. It was supposed to be a romantic day with just the two of them… now it looked to be as thought it would be the three of them.

"So, anyway, Tom," Mel turned the conversation in a different direction, steering away from Omega, "How are you getting along with that soldier guy… what was his name? Leopard? Leo?"

"Lion and be cool. More than cool; he bought me a pile of gadgets and stuff, oh and he got me this cool watch which doesn't actually have numbers!" Tom proudly held up his new watch, a gift from the soldier since he'd seen it in a store window and thought it would suit Tom down to a tee. There as a blank dial, made up of interconnecting dots, mainly in pairs. The girls looked wary,

"I don't think that counts as a watch, Tom…" Ella said, trying to break it to Tom that what he was wearing wasn't a watch. But the teen shook his head,

"No! Watch!" He pressed a button on the side of the watch, and each dot began lighting up, dazzling around in an intricate pattern before settling on a select number of points. It was lit up in about three different colours; red, orange and green. "The green count as one minute, the orange count as five minutes and each red dot is each hour. Isn't it cool?"

"That is pretty cool, I guess," Mel said, but Ella smirked, "Is that all it does? My dad got me this phone last year for Christmas," she held up her mobile, "It's got so many features I haven't even counted them all yet!" Tom began bickering with Ella about which was better; his watch or her phone before Mel interrupted them,

"Alright children!" she said aloud, "Break it up!"

Ella quieted, but Tom pouted, sticking his lower lip out like a child,

"She started it…" he mumbled, arms crossed. Mel slapped his hand playfully,

"I said behave," she giggled, before sighing, "Why is it that parental soldiers always spoil their children? You both have SAS as parents, and they give you all these presents. My parents are so tight with their money it's unreal."

"Guilt? Apology?" Tom suggested.

"Lenient? Soft?" Ella added. Mel groaned,

"I'll never see a single pound of my parents' money until the day I die. I swear they're only doing it to torture me." The other two laughed in good nature, the mood instantly lifting and forgetting about Alex and Garfield – but only for a brief minute,

"If only Alex and Garfield were here; they'd be able to add their bit…" Ella said forlornly.

"For heaven's sake, can't you stop thinking about your boyfriend and Blue?" Tom wittered, exasperated at Ella's lack of self control.

"Oh come on, Tom!" she retorted, "With a boyfriend like Alex, who couldn't help but think about him!"

Mel burst out into laughter as Tom thrust two fingers down his throat, mock gagging and vomiting at the incredulity of what she had just said. Ella blushed profusely,

"I mean…" she stammered, "I mean; I love him and all… so who wouldn't think about their significant other…"

"Sure," Mel said between fits of giggles, "Whatever you say." She calmed down slowly, taking deep breaths while Tom still sniggered now and then, "But I can hardly blame you; guys who work for the military are hot."

"Am I being delegated?" Tom whined, but Mel just patted his knee, chuckling,

"Of course not dear… I mean, take that unit Alex and Garfield are working with; the one wit your dads."

"He's not my dad…" Tom mumbled, interrupting Mel.

"Right… not your dad, but your dad" she continued, glancing at Ella, "I know he's not exactly a super model now that he's married… and Scottish,"

"Hey!" Ella protested, glaring daggers at the other girl,

"Just kidding," Mel smiled, giggling slightly, "But he isn't everyone's cup of tea, shall we say. That Fox guy that's looking after Alex looks young, but he's too enigmatic. Never liked a guy I can't figure out," she gestured silently to Tom, to whom both girls giggled a little, "And that Wolf is way too grouchy. Can't stand him after what he did to poor Garfield. But Lion and Eagle; now they look more appetising."

Tom burst out into another round of laughter, as the other two girls looked at him like he'd finally cracked and gone insane. He realised, however, that they didn't know what he knew – and that only added to the hilarity of the situation. Tears began streaming down his face, his chest heaving from the exertion of laughing so hard. It was five or so minutes before he actually calmed down enough to string together a coherent sentence together,

"You wish!" he chortled, "You know what they say about all good looking guys; they're either taken or gay!"

The two girls looked at each other, taken aback by Tom's outburst and revelation,

"Lion and Eagle are gay?" Ella asked for clarification. Tom chuckled still,

"Lion is, Eagle's not. He's only after Lion for no apparent reason…" he suddenly stopped laughing, a sinister grin splitting across his face, "Oh…" he said, "I suddenly have an idea…"

"Oh gods, no…" Mel mumbled, shuffling down the bench to move away from Tom, "Have mercy."

"Ella, is Eagle still heading round to your later?" Tom asked Ella, who was also looking very frightened,

"Um… yeah, I think so. Dad needs help with the car, and Marcus is the best with mechanics so…" she trailed off, shaking a little from Tom's sinister smile,

"Excellent," he very nearly cackled, "Then I have a plan; listen closely, my minions. It is time for Operation Cupid!"

Both girls gulped simultaneously.

+ TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC +

"Alex!" Ben called from downstairs, "You need to get up now! You've already spent most of the morning in bed!"

Alex groaned a little from sleep, stretching his limbs like a cat. Last nights words still rang in his head; his dreams had been full with nightmares of Omega, and Mrs Jones.

'Stop it!' he thought to himself, scratching his head through unruly hair, 'Forget about them for the moment. You have bigger things to worry about.'

He pulled his legs out from under the duvet, and swiftly got dressed into a simple tee shirt and jeans before jogging downstairs.

He found Ben sat on one of the sofas, idly reading a newspaper as the TV prattled on about random and inane news stories. He glanced up as Alex entered the room,

"Afternoon," he greeted, turning his attention back to the paper.

"It's already afternoon?" Alex asked checking the time. Sure enough, the clock read twenty five past one, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I just did, didn't I?" Ben asked with a sly grin, his eyes still set on the paper.

"You know what I mean; why didn't you wake me up this morning, then?" Ben shrugged, folding the newspaper and tossing it onto the coffee table,

"You looked like you needed your sleep. And obviously I was right."

"You seem to like being right," Alex noted out loud, yanking open the fridge door and sticking his head inside, scanning around for something to eat or drink with minimal preparation required.

"But of course," Ben said, coming over to the kitchen, "What else is a spy good for?" He saw Alex take out some meat and other ingredients from the refrigerator, clearly intent on fixing himself a sandwich. Ben held him back with a hand,

"You know you might want to cut some of that out; we're going out later."

"Out?" Alex asked sceptically, "Out where?"

"To the Four Seasons, obviously," Ben answered.

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A loud knock to the door rouse Garfield from his sleep. Without acknowledgement, the perpetrator walked in regardless. Garfield groaned, already waking his mind up as he processed unseen information,

"Is it three o'clock already? Why didn't you wake me up earlier? I have to go to work! …and where are we going?"

"You… how… what?" Wolf stammered, caught off guard by his ward's bluntness. Said ward sighed in exasperation, clearly not all amused at being woken up late and abruptly,

"One, I don't smell any coffee; so it can't be morning. I can, however, smell tea, so it must be in the afternoon. Two, you're already dressed; I could hear your heavy footsteps suggesting you're wearing footwear, meaning you're going somewhere. But that goes against you're principles of parenting and leaving me here, so I can theorise you want to take me with you. Three, and in addition, you knocked far too loudly on the door, with too much vigour. Had you just wanted to wake me up, with would have just thumped on the door and left me be. But instead you knocked and then entered; so you wanted me up for a reason, and it's one o'clock because I have a watch… dumbass."

Wolf stuttered a little bit more, but eventually regained his composure,

"I'll let that slide for now," he said, rather tersely, "But right now, you need to get up and get ready. We _are _going out; I've bought us tickets to see Johnny English Reborn at five so you better get up and ready."

Garfield moaned,

"Why are we going to see a pathetic film about an idiotic spy who can't do his job right? Those films are so inaccurate it's unreal; are you trying to torture me?"

"I thought it might be funny how we could point out all the flaws in the film," Wolf suggested "And it was either this or The Lion King. You're choice."

Another groan,

"I _hate _you sometimes…"

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The drive to the cinema was uneventful, boring if Garfield was honest. He wasn't even entirely sure this was a good thing to do. But Wolf seemed eager, and Garfield didn't want to rain on his parade; he'd already pushed the limits as far as he could. But the film choice was hardly appropriate; was Wolf trying to embarrass him, or was it all a cruel trick?

The cinema was low key; considerably out of the way. Garfield's eyes flicked around the shabby atrium, barely registering the limp fake plants and stained carpet. The choking smell of burnt popcorn hung in the air, and the ticket vendor looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. His name badge read Steve, and Garfield could instantly tell he was still between college and university. It was late evening, and here he was wasting his time earning a living; he was saving for funds to get to university, anything that will go his way. It was clear by the faint smell of bleach that he had been cleaning the toilets, not a normal job for a vendor, but he also wore a nicotine patch on his left bare arm, tucked just under the sleeve of his slightly pungent uniform. He was saving money by quitting smoking, forced to substitute patches for the cigarette, and his clothes hadn't been washed for a while, cutting back on water costs and washing detergents. The black chalked lines underneath his eyes highlighted the lack of sleep he was getting, and judging by his boredom was because of working long shifts with late hours.

Wolf asked for two tickets – an adult and a teen – handed over the money and thanked the guy whilst he yawned. There was no backing out now; Garfield would either have to sit through nearly two hours of what would be drivel, or he could stay outside for those two hours and be just as bored. The choice was easy, and he took the popcorn tub that was offered him and obediently followed him through to the screen.

It was a short wait for the film to start, which Garfield spent with complaining and analysing other people in other seats. Wolf tried his best to put up with the teen's whining, keeping in mind that this was his own good and not just some practical joke. Fortunately, adverts began playing up on the screen, and Garfield fell silent. He mumbled occasionally at some of the 'stupid adverts', but shut up when the real film began to start.

Wolf took sidelong glances all throughout the film at Garfield, taking n his expression. Despite his resentment before, he seemed to genuinely enjoy the film. But Wolf didn't know what was going on inside his head.

Garfield chuckled at several of the scenes, where the main character, Johnny, was chasing – or rather walking – after an enemy at a leisurely pace. He laughed again when the same character was chasing after 'the Cleaner' and once more during a chase scene on a wheelchair. His thoughts, as dark and as brooding as they were, were being momentarily distracted. He didn't even realise it till he burst out into laughter once more during the climax of the film. Desperately trying to smother his laugh, he glanced at Wolf who was smiled broadly. Garfield had a hunch that it wasn't because of the film.

The credits rolled, and suddenly the theatre was alive again with a half dead audience. Wolf and Garfield remained sitting as they filed out in a shuffle into the atrium outside. Garfield caught a flurry of movement in the corner of his eye, and was about to go and investigate before Wolf pulled him away, leading him outside,

"So; enjoy the film?" he asked, still grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. He was obviously hyped and entertained by finally doing something good from Garfield.

"Hell yeah!" Garfield said before he cold stop himself, "That was hilarious…" he trailed off, his face turning into one of horror and shock, "Oh no…" he stammered, "Did I really enjoy that?"

Wolf nodded, his smile growing even wider beyond what was possible,

"Your face and everything; I've never seen you actually happy before!" he chortled, much to Garfield's embarrassment as a few other audience members looked their way.

"Will you stop it?" Garfield pleaded with whispers, trying to avert the situation, "Please?"

"Why?" Wolf asked, oblivious to the reason why Garfield was getting so worked up, "You looked happy! You were having a good time."

"So?" the teen snapped irritably, "So what if I'm happy; now I have to go back to fighting stupid Omega as well as mounting depression that I can never be who you want me to be!"

"Who I want you to be? I don't want you to be anything…" Wolf said, all the humour gone and the mood suddenly heavy. Garfield turned away, heading towards the door,

"You want me to be normal," he glanced back, stifling a tear, "I can _never_ be normal."

The teen pushed his way through the small crowd that had formed and out the main doors. Wolf stood there for a few moments, shocked a little by his ward's response before tearing out the doors after him, trying to call him back,

"PUP!" he yelled off down the street, just catching the teen's form through the mulling crowd, "WAIT! I'M SORRY!"

He sprinted down the road, effortlessly catching up to Garfield who had stopped abruptly at some crossroads.

"Look, Pup, I'm sor-"

"Shut up."

"-ry?" Wolf finished his voice hesitant and meek against the teen's harsh put down. A little anger swelled up, but Garfield didn't give him a chance to voice his opinions,

"It's _them._"

Wolf followed his steely gaze further down the street, falling upon a man near shop window. He was average, a polo shirt, baggy sweatpants; nothing to distinguish him. A girl stood beside him, wrapped up in an imposing trench coat that fell down around her shins. She stuck out like a sore thumb standing beside him; she was nervously glancing around. Both were, however, ordinary and normal; nothing cats them out as odd. But Garfield was staring directly at them, set with a firm, unyielding gaze,

"It's who?" Wolf asked, his anger wilting inside him, only to be replaced by guilt and pity. He couldn't have predicted Garfield's reaction, but a part of him knew it had been coming.

"_Sir Aidan Brock_ _and that girl from last night_," Garfield elaborated, his gaze never wandering, nor straying from the pair as they stood rather awkwardly outside the shop. Just as he mentioned their names, the man turned and faced their direction. He noticed them over yonder, smiled with beaming white teeth and waved at them. Garfield looked stunned; how had he known? Had he been in the cinema? The girl murmured some words to Aidan before she strode off in an opposite direction.

Aidan stared a moment longer at Wolf and Garfield from across the street before strolling the other way, the two leaving each other's company. Garfield growled to himself; it was a typical evasion technique. He should have expected this to happen. Fortunately, though, Wolf was here at hand.

"Wolf; ir detrás de la chica."

"¿Qué?" Wolf replied switching to his Spanish tongue fluently and effortlessly, "¿Por qué?"

"No preguntes, sólo hazlo," Garfield shouted as he dashed off after Aidan Brock.

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The car pulled up quietly into the parking space that had been reserved for them. The Rolls Royce Phantom roared one final time before Ben cut the engine, almost announcing their arrival. They both got out, Alex fidgeting in the tuxedo he'd been forced into wearing. The cuffs were impossibly tight around his wrists, digging into the skin slightly, but not unbearably. The trousers were a size too small, and Alex had had to yank them on with great care for fear of tearing them. He didn't see really the reason why he had to get dressed up for a simple night out, when Ben had gone for a more casual look with an open neck shirt and he'd been crammed into a black bow tie that was very nearly choking him. It was as if they were attending a proper formal event, and even then Alex would never have worn such a damned thing. It reminded him too much of that fateful night in Scotland all those months ago. The day he'd nearly died alongside Sabina and her father. The memory left a bad metallic taste in his mouth. Just another example of how he'd failed to prevent another disaster…

"Are you sure you're allowed to drive that thing around publicly?" Alex said, motioning at the car, desperately trying to forget the lurking fear that was rising up, "It _is _supposed to be a secret government tool of mass destruction."

Ben shrugged in nonchalance, and locked the car with a click of his fingers. Together, he and Alex walked up to the ornate entrance to the Four Seasons. Candles lined the entrance hall, and the delectable aroma of cooking foods and fine wines drifted in the air. Obscure pictures of artistic scenes hung on the walls, and it would seem to Alex that today the motif was of autumn. Several of the scenes that littered the wall were of grasslands spread with browning leaves or of ripe crops ready for harvest.

Will rounded the corner, dressed impeccably in a smart waiter's uniform, the words 'Four Seasons' embroidered in fine gold weave. His apron was a dark crimson, and he wore long black trousers that just lipped over the polished shoes. The long crisp white short was wrist length, and he held a cloth tucked over one arm, folded neatly against his waist. This too was a deep red, matching the lush rugs that had been laid out across the floor,

"Ben! Alex!" he called out, beckoning them in further into the warmth, "I'm glad you could make it; you're a little late."

"We had… car troubles." Ben said ominously, keeping away from the actual truth.

"Yes, _car troubles_. Where other cars cause us trouble; like getting in our way, driving under the speed limit, etcetera etcetera. Even that ambulance…" Alex explained to the bemused Will. He laughed in good humour, before calming and addressing them more formally,

"If you'd like to follow me please,"

Will lead the way through the entrance hall and into the main dining area; the restaurant was practically empty, save for the three of them, a younger girl stood behind the counter and a vehement Terry slicing vegetables with far too much enthusiasm,

"Monsieur Daniels, please. Calm yourself." She spoke softly, her French accent overlaying her words. It was a stark contrast from all the Liverpudlian Alex had been subjected to.

"Why is the restaurant empty?" Alex asked as they made they're way over to the only set table. A crackling fire billowed away under an impressive hearth, and the table was coordinated with the same fathoming red motif; dashed with violets, dark navy and purple. Chinese bellflowers were laid out and strung throughout the rafters of the ceiling, hanging down in intricate folds as if they really were true bells. Some chrysanthemum buds were placed at the centre of several of the tables with decorative additions such as fake stems with crimson baubles. However, what amazed Alex the most was that the centrepiece of their table was not a simple vase stuffed full with a bouquet of red and yellowed flowers, but instead a delicate bonsai took the place. The miniature red maple looked pristinely cut and preened and had obviously been put on show just for him.

"We closed early today," came Will's quiet response, moving to go talk with his brother as the French woman headed over to them. Alex would have made her out to be in her late teens, possibly older – twenty two?

"Bonsoir monsieurs have a seat s'il vous plait," she asked in disjointed English and French, "I am Charlotte, and I shall be waiting on you tonight."

"Charlotte," Ben said in a serious matter of fact tone, "You've known me for two years nearly, and I doubt Alex is going to wonder why he isn't getting professional treatment…"

She cast him a scolding look, before turning back to face Alex again, smiling all the more,

"Bonsoir," Alex replied, alternating to flawless French in an instant, "Peux-je demander les raisons pour lesquelles vous travaillez ici?"

Charlotte looked shocked for a minute, before recovering,

"He is fluent, non?" she giggled, "To answer your question, ah…"

"Alex," he supplied helpfully,

"Alex. To answer your question, I came to London just over two years ago to study your English cuisine. Your uncles offered me a temporary job here while I train." She smiled again sweetly, "Now, if you please take your seat." She gestured to a chair that had been pulled out, and Alex obediently took it.

"Shall we start with the appetiser?" she asked, now just sticking to English, reverting into a state when she could wait without the language barrier.

"Sure," Alex shrugged, not really concerned with what was expected of him. Numerous glistening forks and knives – even the occasional spoon – had been laid out before him, with a perfectly folded cloth napkin in front of him. A single browning leaf had been embroidered into one of the corners, which now stuck up just above the rim of his wine glass.

"What would you like to drink?" she asked, bringing out a paper jotting pad with a pencil at the ready. She looked intently at the two of them, barely registering Will and Terry who had taken the two other seats.

"Just a lager please," Ben asked politely. Charlotte turned her gaze to Alex, still staring with a fierce intensity that somehow made her fit in with Terry's exuberant demeanour. He stumbled for an answer,

"Um... could I please, you know, just have a Coke?" he hesitated, gesturing at the tall wine glass, "No alcohol, please. If that's alright…" Terry just chuckled,

"Of course it's alright; you can have whatever you want. Everything's on the house tonight."

"Oh… Terry, I can't-" Ben began, but was cut off by Will in quiet voice,

"It's the least we can do; we heard about Omega and thought about how we could help. This is the only thing we can really offer: a gourmet meal free of charge."

Ben looked rather disheartened, and a slight red tint came to his face as he blushed a little, but he said no more as their drinks were brought over. Charlotte had taken the initiative and, by some recollection Alex assumed of previously serving the brothers, had brought two extra lagers for the pair of them. Alex's Coke came with a slice of lemon on the side and clanging ice cubes in it. Terry rose to make a toast (a part which Alex dreaded),

"To father and son!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, making Alex cringe from not just the sentiment. He gingerly raised his glass, refusing to chorus the other men as they gulped greedily from their glasses as though their lives depended on it.

"So, Alex," Terry said after stifling a short belch, "How's school?"

"Blown up," Alex replied bluntly, fiddling with his cuffs. He glanced up as he saw three pairs of eyes bore into him; obviously Charlotte, Terence and William hadn't heard about the blast, "It was nothing, really…"

"Are you okay? What happened?" Will interrogated, suddenly looking Alex over with a critical eye. Alex shook his head,

"I'm fine, really. It was just a gas leak and then a spark ignited the lot. It was lucky nobody was seriously hurt." His mind cast back to the fateful day, remembering that Tom had nearly been abducted and later killed, or that Miss Critter and her half charred body. Not everyone had made it out of the explosion at the school… He was even forced to switch to the cover story provided by MI6; he knew full well he couldn't trust Charlotte.

"It seems a lot happens to you, Alex Rider," the waitress said as she came over with four bowls of soup, "Last time I heard of you, you were terribly sick. It would seem that you lead a very hectic life," she laid his bowl down, her nails gripping the edge viciously. Alex glanced into her eyes which were level with his and still just as intense. She held his gaze for a moment or two before relinquishing the soup, and returning back into the kitchen,

"A very hectic life indeed," she muttered as the swinging doors slammed shut behind her.

The three brothers had already begun eating their food so Alex saw no reason to start eating his own. It was good, but not as great as Terry's. She wasn't exactly a food connoisseur that was for sure. She didn't seem right to Alex, and there was a lot about her that put him off.

The soup was easily finished; a rather tasteless blend of random vegetables such as butternut squash and potatoes. It was actually rather repulsive to Alex, but he downed it anyway; he was starving. Fortunately, he got the choice of the main course, as he was handed a menu by the ever increasing bizarre French waitress. Charlotte again clutched the cardboard menu Alex had a hold of before snatching her hand back away like it had been burnt. Trying to ignore her freakish antics, Alex immersed himself in the choice of foods that were on offer to him as the men's conversation drifted in and out of his interest,

"It's a shame Mum and Dad aren't here," Ben admitted, swirling the bitter alcohol in his glass around, watching the white foam fizz and ebb.

"They're still in Australia, I'm afraid. They'll be back in time before that little girl of yours is born, I'm sure." Terry replied, a little down hearted from their parents not being here, but Ben perked up at the end of his statement,

"Oh yes! How is Marianne? How's the baby?"

"Still not born yet," Will chuckled, "They're both doing fine; we've got a little girl on the way and were just thinking of names now," he glanced over at the very quiet – almost silent – Alex who was trying his best to blend in and not stand out so that the brothers would pick him out, "You okay Alex? You aren't speaking much…"

"I haven't really got anything to say…" he mumbled in response, taking a sip from his now rather lukewarm Coke as they waited for Charlotte to come back and take their orders.

"Well, I'm sure you can think of something to add; how about just telling us about yourself. Stuff like your life before the secret service and whatnot," Terry added, "We hardly know anything about you."

"If you insist…" Alex drawled, resenting having been caught and dragged back into the conversation. He despised talking about himself; it was always boring or secretive. He'd barely been able to set himself up with a normal life, so he had no recent experiences that he could openly talk about. The only thing that was plaguing his every waking moment was Omega, and he could hardly start up a conversation about them in public.

He sighed inwardly; it was going to be a very long night.

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His feet pounded along the steel gratings, his legs carrying him along at a frighteningly fast pace. The metal reverberated with each thumping footstep as Garfield sprinted after the rapidly disappearing Sir Aidan Brock. The estranged tycoon was quite the runner, and Garfield was being forced to revert back to his thieving days and take the sneaky and far quicker shortcut. Ahead of him was the vague form of his pursuit; barely distinguishable between the hazing shadows and fading light. Somewhere along the line they had come to a factory that was being renovated. It had been easy to jump the guards who were still in a daze when Aidan had raced past.

A crate toppled over ahead of him, and Garfield leapt up on the balls of his feet, his heel catching on the safety rail and propelling him along at an even greater momentum. He vaulted over a stack of boxes, and slid by a falling pile of yet more crates. All the while he never stopped running, always hurtling faster and faster towards his target.

Aidan moved out of view, slipping down a short passage just off to the left. Garfield ran after him, speeding up and taking deep, stinging breaths. His body was starved of oxygen, but he'd been trained to endure the bitterness from the lack of it. His mind was blurred by tinting black, but he couldn't differentiate between whether it was because of the darkness or his own brain demanding more energy.

He just caught a glimpse of the runaway tycoon as he hurried around the corner. Garfield gave chase again, running at full pelt after him. He wasn't even sure why he was following Aidan, but he had seen him in the street. He had _acknowledged_ him. He must have seen him the night before. It was the only explanation.

Garfield broke out into a clearing. He knew Aidan had turned this way; but there was no sign of him. Hanging, half torn plastic sheets clouded his view. Winds blew and whistled with a sinister tune about him, and the teen suddenly felt very cold ad extremely exposed.

He edged tentatively forwards, his ears straining for the dimmest of sounds. He'd developed acute hearing over the years (something which he was sure would later turn into premature deafness, but for now…) and he caught the faintest of scuffles. But then there was another… and another. All in different directions; were they rats, builders, or a fleeing tycoon?

"I know who you are, Orphan."

Garfield couldn't place where the sound came from; the voice had been muffled and redirected by the climbing walls and limp plastic.

"And I, you," Garfield replied loudly, making sure that he was heard, "You've been quite busy recently, Mr Brock."

"That's _sir_ to you," the gravelly voice sneered, "I, like you, have done this country a national service. Recognise my authority."

"Kind of hard to recognise someone when they're hiding; why don't you come out into the open and we can talk some?" the teen called out, spinning around three hundred and sixty degrees, scanning all the higher walkways.

"I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you Orphan," Aidan called back, still hidden, "But I know your tricks. You've built yourself up quite the reputation."

"I try," Blue replied back, his eyes flicking through out the shadows, narrowing the direction down, "And you likewise; the shadowed tycoon who's everybody's friend. You can fool any man or woman into becoming your ally. In fact, I'm sure her majesty was quite amused by your oh so charismatic charms," he said venomously, "Perhaps you'd care to try them on me face to face."

A loud chuckle came from beyond the black haze,

"And what would it prove to you? What have you got to be right about?" Another chortle, "Come, tell me, what have you managed to keen so far. I'm intrigued to know."

"Why should I?" Garfield retorted.

"Indulge me." Garfield sighed, but continued nonetheless,

"I know you work for Alpha Industries,"

"I don't _work_ for Alpha Industries," Aidan laughed, "I _own_ them. You'd be surprised how far my commerce actually goes."

"You _own_ Alpha Industries," Garfield corrected, slightly annoyed at being interrupted so rudely, "and you've got military connections."

"What kind of connections?"

"The secret service – MI5. I even go as far to say MI6 as well. You're giving them something; providing them with some kind of service? Protection? Maybe you're supplying them with weapons or mercenaries. Either way, I'd like to now why you're in league with them." Garfield explained, making his demands. He heard another chuckle,

"You are quite arrogant for a teenager. But you have made it this far; I suppose I should humour you. I am most certainly not 'in league' with MI6 at the moment. They have a cancer that needs to be removed. MI5 are proving to be more cooperative, but resilient. They seem reluctant to hand you over."

"Hand me over?" Garfield shouted out for clarification.

"Yes, you," Aidan stepped out of the shadows, "There are forces moving against us; common enemies. In time, we too shall become allies."

Garfield spun around the face the tycoon. He looked almost normal, barely standing out as a businessman or a wealthy entrepreneur. Yet he seemed to exude a sense of authority, not that people would give it to him, but his general presence made Garfield do a double take – so unassuming and yet so deadly and ruthless underneath.

"I'll never ally myself with you; you talk as though I'm just an asset. A _resource_. I'll never work with you." Garfield said coldly. This man gave him the creeps, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the arrogant smirk off his face.

"Oh but you will; when the clock strikes thirteen, and when the apple falls, you will."

And then he stepped back into the shadows as if he were never there. Garfield was about to follow after him again, but something pushed him roughly back. He stumbled a little, his feet taking a couple of steps back as he regained his balance.

"What the…" he mumbled, just as a figure appeared in front of him.

"We shouldn't keep doing this," The girl in the trench coat said, pulling the collar up around her neck, "It's too dangerous. Omega must never know that we keep meeting."

"What are you on about?" Blue demanded, "Who are you? Why do you know me?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and Garfield got his first proper look at her face. The freckles dotted her cheeks, and her eyes looked drawn. Her eyes were a dull blue, but had a tiny, almost unnoticeable sparkle to them. Her hair was tied back sleek against her head, pulled as tightly as possible into a ponytail. It seemed an obscure way to keep oneself hidden, by hiding their face with a rain or trench coat but then tying their hair back for their face to be seen. But Garfield supposed the best disguise was the one where you were so bizarre people overlooked you.

"We've met before; I told you, you just can't remember. Omega was weak back then and it was okay to take chances – to take risks. But now… now we can't be so reckless. I hope that when we next see each other it'll be on better terms." She said, glancing in the direction of approaching footsteps at a running pace.

"At the thirteenth hour?" Garfield asked incredulously, "Or when this apple falls? Or maybe both? WHO KNOW'S?"

The girl winced, but she turned to run off after Aidan,

"Soon, Orphan, soon…"

And she dashed off into the shadows, just as two heavily build workers came jogging up to Garfield.

"OI!" one of them shouted at him, not noticing the flick of a coat disappearing into the darkness, "We wanna word with you!"

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Wolf sighed as he tried to dial Garfield's mobile again, leaning against the parked up truck. He'd lost the girl when she had been running through some construction work, and the building site was already in chaos. She'd slipped away as easily as she had come, and Wolf was frustrated that he hadn't been able to follow her.

What he was more frustrated about, however, was Garfield's reckless and idiotic spontaneity. He had once again gone off against what was best for him and tried to fight an unseen war that had nothing to do with him. Omega to rot in hell for all Wolf cared; all he wanted right now was to know that Pup was safe – that _his_ Pup was safe. He'd heard about what had happened whenever Fox had turned his back with Alex, and suddenly he's being held at gunpoint, nearly being blown up or being kidnaped by Omega themselves.

The mobile rung out useless on the dial tone for the fiftieth… fifty-first time. Where was he? Wolf was getting anxious, and when he got anxious he would always get wound up and right now he was tighter than a jack-in-the-box. It would probably only take a single thing to piss him off and flip his handle.

"Boo."

Wolf spun around, his hand unconsciously snaking to the holster hidden beneath his jacket. His grip relaxed when he saw that it was only Garfield. Relief washed over him like soothing water, but it was quickly replaced by furious anger,

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" he yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS ALL THAT ABOUT?"

"I was chasing up some leads," the teen answered cryptically, "Why did you lose the girl?"

"I HAVE NO- Wait. What?" Wolf spluttered the anger diminishing and laying suspect to bitter relief again.

"I caught the girl, she ran away again. You lost her though." Garfield answered blankly, fixing Wolf with a glare.

"She went into this construction place; I couldn't get after her." He answered honestly, although it was a shoddy excuse in his opinion. But it was the only one he had. Garfield glared at him for a moment or two before shrugging,

"Oh well, doesn't matter now," he walked over to the truck, "Are we leaving now?"

Wolf sighed, resisting the urge to shout again, hating himself for giving into his military conditioning,

"Yes… I suppose so…"

He heaved open the rusted door, the hinges squeaking in complaint. The pair slammed their doors in unison, and Wolf knew at an instant that Garfield was ignoring the blatant issue that both of them knew about,

"Pup, listen I-"

"Don't Wolf," Garfield cut in, "Just don't…"

"I'm sorry," he continued anyway, knowing Garfield wouldn't have a choice but to listen, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything; I wasn't mocking you. I wanted you to relax, to forget about Omega for a short while and just enjoy yourself."

"While I still can…" the teen muttered under his breath, but Wolf caught it.

"What?" he asked, "What do you mean 'while you still can'?" Garfield huffed,

"Something is happening, Wolf. Something big and huge and I know nothing about it. MI5 is going behind my back, MI6 is untrustworthy, and I can no longer tell the difference between my normal life and my secret life. Omega has ruined everything; it's as though my life was pointless to even try and control if they've been pulling the strings from the background. I don't see the point in fighting anymore, and I don't see the point in trying to delude myself I can be normal. I'll never be normal; I'll never have a normal life…"

Wolf listened with his breath caught in his throat. He was most definitely not an emotional man, in fact he'd pretty much obliterated most of his soppy emotions on the front line. But Garfield was getting to him; he hated seeing the kid down trodden. He reached out and pulled the teen into a half hug as Garfield muffled the most inaudible sob,

"It's alright; you_ are_ normal, no matter what anybody else thinks, or what you think. You always be normal, and you certainly do have a life." He murmured into the top of Pup's head, rubbing his hand up and down the teen's shoulder, "We'll get through this; I'll still be here when all this is over and we can sort it out together."

"Are you sure?" Garfield whispered, "I got a lot of ghosts for just one lifetime."

"I'm sure…" Wolf kissed the top of the teen's head softly before releasing him from the awkward embrace. The pair of them coughed, turning away from each other to face the front wind shield. A few brief, embarrassing seconds passed between them before Garfield bit the bullet,

"Thank you…" he said, or rather mumbled, "And… I'm sorry."

"S'Alright," Wolf replied, reaching for the ignition, "You're going through a tonne of crap; you need all the help you can get." The engine started up, coughing and choking into life, "You can always rely on me… no matter what."

Garfield smiled a little, the expression tugging at his tired lips, but he was too busy with other preoccupied thoughts. He didn't have the nerve to tell Wolf about what he'd seen and heard. He couldn't bring himself to mention the forewarning; about the tycoon and the girl in the trench coat.

_Oh but you will; when the clock strikes thirteen, and when the apple falls, you will._

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Ben sat quietly behind the wheel, street lights flashing past as he drove through London home. The evening had passed without a hitch, with only Charlotte, the stand in waitress acing only slightly weird this week. Alex had gotten along really well with his other brothers Ben thought, but he'd seemed a little more reclusive than usual. Alex was normally open and blank with his opinions, but tonight he seemed to shy away from the limelight. Maybe it was because of Omega or not, Ben didn't know, but he hoped that he'd eased up somewhat from the disastrous past few weeks.

He sighed, not caring who heard him. He felt like a third, insignificant wheel in a huge mass of cogs and gears that amounted to the overthrowing of the government. He felt like he could do nothing; he had nothing to gain from fending off terrorist extremists, nor did he have anything not to fight for. A third, neutral party who could only stand by and watch as their society tore itself apart.

Ben glanced over at Alex. The teen had (although Alex would kill Ben if he ever told anyone) fallen asleep in his seat, his head pressed against the cool glass. The engine purred softly as Ben slowed down when they entered a more suburban part of London. He smiled, noticing the calm look on Alex's face. It was a major improvement from the nightmares. He had changed his mind; he was wrong. He _did _have something to fight for, and it was sleeping soundly beside him. He'd fight for Alex.

Unbeknownst to Ben, Alex wasn't really asleep. His eyes were closed from exhaustion, but he couldn't sleep properly. Not with Ben only a few inches away. Besides, he had more important things to worry about.

Alex was still finding it troublesome to get over the fact that, not only there being a traitor in MI6, but it being Mrs Jones nonetheless. She had been so nice to him, even helped him out when he'd thought he had left the espionage business. She had given him a visa. So if Omega wanted Alex in England, why then had Mrs Jones, assuming hypothetically that she _was _Omega, issued him with an American visa. But Mr E had answered that already; Omega needed Blue to gain experience and trust before they brought him back into the equation. And then it would make sense if Omega built upon the trust and work of others. They never did anything themselves, always manipulating others to do their bidding. So Mrs Jones would build her character as a nice, motherly helper to Alex and earn his trust and respect, and then back stab hi mat the last minute. She was the only one with higher clearance than any other agent, and she was the closest person of authority to Alex. It would be child's play manipulating him to do her will. The evidence was slowly adding up against Mrs Jones, and the more Alex tried to find good, positive things to use in her defence ended up only sufficing to worse details. It was becoming harder to deny the possibility that Mrs Jones was indeed Omega.

Alex shuffled around in his seat as the car turned a corner, trying to make it look like it was in his sleep. His was growing uncomfortable, and hoped that Ben wouldn't be forming the idea of carrying him inside bridal style. He'd have to 'wake up' soon. He'd just have to hope Ben didn't want to embarrass him anymore tonight…

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Lion huffed in the cold, frigid air as he waited outside the restaurant. It was some obscure place on the other side of town, some place called Skylon. Bizarre name, but Tom had told him he'd received a very important and vitally urgent message for Lion to be there, so here he was, snuffling like a frozen penguin and putting a much distance between him and those foul smokers.

He was standing a little away from the door, keeping a lookout for his 'contact'. Tom had told him to dress u smart, and for some reason he was beginning to doubt the boy. In fact, he had been doubting the boy all day when he'd suddenly been harassed by him to be here tonight. He'd only just gotten in from staying out with his friends when the teen had promptly gone and mobbed him in the kitchen.

He sighed, his breath misting in fine vapours, mocking the smokers further away who were all huddling under a smoking zone sign, greedily sucking at their stubs of cigarettes, trying to draw out the last puffs of addiction before they dwindled and smouldered into nothing.

The sound of plodding footsteps came up behind him, and Lion nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to look at the offender, but he came face to face with none other than Eagle.

"Hey," his teammate beamed, "How's it going?"

"Shut up!" Lion hissed, keeping his voice low, "Tom said it was important that I was here at this time. You'd better get going or you'll ruin my cover."

Eagle shook his head bemused,

"Funny," he started, "that's exactly what Ella said as well… she said that Tom had a message from you to meet you here at this time. So I came; what d'ya want?"

Lion looked confused, squinting in puzzlement at Eagle,

"I didn't send any message…" Suddenly, Lion groaned as realisation dawned on him, "Oh my god, Tom set us up…"

"What?" Eagle asked, bewildered.

"Tom, he set us up, that little twerp." Lion growled, "I'll get him back for this."

"Actually," Eagle began, interrupting Lion, "I knew about this…"

"You did?" Lion said, now confused even more so. Eagle nodded slowly and calmly,

"We've got a reservation inside; a table for two, me and you. I mean, you don't have to take it if you don't want but…" he shifted warily from one foot to the other, scratching at the side of his head. It was blatantly clear he was nervous. Lion guessed he must have been building up the courage for a while,

"You mean… like a date?" Lion asked, trying to test the waters with his teammate. Eagle nodded again, averting his eyes to the pavement. Lion was taken aback, "I… never knew you… were _that_ way. I thought it was just me…"

"I'm not!" Eagle blurted, "I just… Only for you… nobody else…"

Lion gazed at the man, taking in his features, the muddled black-brown hair and the passive hazel eyes. His face was lean yet hardened by his years in the military. By Lion's standards, he wasn't so bad.

"Fine… come on then. We've got a date, haven't we, and a table reserved." Lion spoke out, holding open the door for Eagle to step through. The man literally jumped to attention and ran inside, with Lion following behind him. It wasn't anything definite, but for now, it was something.

Something in the dark world of Omega.

**FINALLY I HAVE FINISHED!**

**Are you far happier with the word count? 10,000 near enough to. You had better be happy. And I've tried desperately not to pad out this chapter, and unfortunately you'll need to jump about a lot. Also, with the French and the Spanish; forgive me, just use Google. **

**I'm sorry this is late. Stuff came up and whatnot. You know how it is. This week I promise I'll try to adhere to my update rota. **

**We have some familiar faces in this chapter; some good some bad, and a few new ones. And we have romance and father/son relationships. Twas a mushy chapter, for sure, but I felt it necessary amidst the blood and gore of the other chapters that have come so far, and the ones that are to follow. **

**Speaking of which; there will be a bridging story between this story and its sequel. It will be based around Monkey DeRanged's idea of a Pup/Wolf story. For more information, PM me, email me, or review and post your comments. **

**Also, I do love to hear from you, so please please review and make my day, if you would so kindly.**

**Next Chapter: Friends are in need of reuniting. Tom and Alex make a comeback people!**

**Thanks – K9**


	23. Harris

**I'm sorry that I have to do this; but I'm holding this fanfic hostage! **

**Reviews are dwindling , so I want a boost of about 3 or 4 if I am to update this fanfic regularly and not just when and as I please.**

**You have been warned!**

**In response to reviews:**

**Bookluver07: I realise that I've been cutting back. But rest assured, they haven't been forgotten. Thanks for reading AND reviewing.**

**Jellie Smiff: Then that's exactly what I was aiming for. Here's the next chapter for you and thanks for reviewing!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Tom is **_**terrifying**_** when he has a plan. Wolf's isn't very original, it would seem. The restaurant isn't all that expensive, which is what makes it so popular ;) And aren't they just? Although I don't tend to describe battle hardened, grizzled soldiers to be cute :3. **

**And the bridge is underway. Just needs tweaks and such in the final drafts. And, unsurprisingly, Wolf's parenting will be pushed to the very limit. And I think though that you may be pleasantly – or unpleasantly, depending on whether you have a weak heart or not – surprised. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Mazken: I know, I was shocked as well…. And I'm supposed to be writing this?**

**We all have our preferences, and there are always exceptions. I don't like death fics, but some are just so amazingly fantastic. And thanks X3 (blushes profusely), I just describe Lion as I would any other character. I understand; some OCs are a little over the top with their impossibility. **

**Thanks for reviewing!**

**Chapter 23: Harris**

Alex was checking the MI6 mainframe on his PS3 that had now been installed correctly into Ben's TV. There was very little action; Garfield had shrouded all the necessary data with safeguards and firewalls that prevented even the most skilled of hackers breaking through the barriers to the prized treasure within. He had no emails, no reports or evidence to cross examine. His role of being in charge of the Omega investigation had become pretty much redundant now that Blue had regained his memories and taken the steed once again. He was shifting all the organisational responsibilities back onto himself, and Alex was finding that he was coming to a loose end. He had no idea what to do with himself. Letting down his guard would be a disastrous notion; Omega had already gained enough ground as it was with Alex's life and he couldn't risk allowing them to conquer some more.

He sighed, tossing the controller of to one side, it landing softly in a pile of plumped cushions. Ben was out; he had left to tend to paperwork earlier in the morning leaving Alex on his own to do as he wishes. Without Ben around, with no school and with a lack of interest, boredom was easily creeping in on him.

He had still yet to buy games to play on the alternate actual PS3 gaming system, so its function as entertainment was utterly useless at this time. Ben hardly had any films worth watching, and Alex doubted whether any of them would be of any actual substance. He had poor taste in films…

His only other option was to call a friend – text them if possible – and see what possibilities laid there. Garfield would be naturally busy restoring order to the investigation, so that ruled him out. Alex wasn't really in the mood for dealing with Blue's antics.

Perhaps then Ella; Alex hadn't seen her for a while. She was always able to cheer him up, and he very much needed that now.

He fished into his pocket, drew out his mobile and dialled Ella's number off the seven digits In the back of his head. A human brain can only remember seven digits at any one time, and he'd made sure to know hers like he would with every vein and crevice of the back of his hand.

It rung for a few a minute or two before Ella answered,

"Hello?" Alex smiled at the sound of her voice,

"Hey!" he replied, maybe just a little too enthusiastically.

"Hi," she said again, keeping the charade of not knowing who was on the other end up until she broke first, "So, you not going to tell me who it is, or do I have to tell Dad I have a stalker?"

Alex caved in then and there, terrified at what the medic might do,

"Ella!" he beamed, "It's good to hear from you!"

"And you,"

"How are you my lovely?" he said sickly sweet, imitating a forlorn lover, separated by miles. He heard a retching sound on the other end of the phone,

"Oh please don't do that again," Ella coughed, still pretending to be sick, "That's just so wrong…"

"As is us being too far apart for too long without seeing each other," Alex picked up, continuing her line without fault, "how about we say you and I go somewhere quiet and we can discus how amazing we both are, around two-ish? I'm free today so when ever is fine…"

He heard a wince from the other side,

"I'm sorry, Al… I can't. Mel, Tom and I went out yesterday and things kind of got out of hand… we tried to stop him, but he was just too powerful."

"Who?" Alex asked, suddenly alert, "What happened?" he demanded with an imperative tone.

Ella gulped, Alex envisioned a drawn and fearful Ella clutching the phone with shaky hands, and tears streaming down her face; he felt sick to the pit of his stomach.

"It was Tom…" She stammered, "He… and Eagle… and then Lion. Oh Alex it was horrifically ingenious." Her tone grew lighter to the end, and Alex visibly relaxed on the sofa, slumping just a little.

'_Stupid paranoia,'_ he thought, but then something else crossed his mind,

"Wait, you were out with Tom and Mel? Before I even ask what that madman has done this time, what were thinking going out in public?" Alex was concerned _and _angry, but smothered them both, "It's dangerous with Omega out there. We can never be too careful!" He was near leading with her, for what reason he wasn't sure of, but his gut churned wit the thought of letting more of his friends – and his girlfriend – die once more because of him.

"Chill, Alex," Ella reassured, "We were careful; with Tom we have to be. Besides, Dad was only round the corner. We wouldn't have had to run far, and we were together as a group always, so no worries."

But Alex wasn't buying it,

"That may be so," he said, "But they could have surrounded you! They could have planted explosives around where you were and killed you. They could have attacked your Dad and taken him away and then gone after you! They could hav-"

"But they didn't!" Ella interrupted, "And we're safe now, so it doesn't matter. Alex, we can't let them take over our lives just because _you're_ worried. Otherwise they've won anyway; we can't let them think that they've got one over on us. So just relax." There were some words shouted on the other end, gruff commands and Ella answering back, her voice muffled from being drawn away from the microphone. She came back, "Look, Alex. I got to go; I'm not supposed to be on my mobile since I got grounded – y'know, with what happened with Tom, Eagle and Lion. Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Wait! What did happ-" Alex began, but was cut off as Ella hung up abruptly, leaving Alex's question trailing off. So one option was down; but what had happened with Tom the other day?

Alex began to ring Mel to ask someone who would give him a sensible answer, but he got no reply. Alex sent her a message, but that was all he could do for now. Boredom still reigned, and it was circling him like a hungry vulture in a dry desert. He needed to do something entertaining – _now_!

What about Tom? He must surely be bored, just as Alex was, and although he would regret it he could hang out with his best friend.

And he certainly didn't recall army soldiers being the best entertainers, especially for a hyperactive childish teenager with the imagination of child given a pack of free crayons and the largest colouring book in the world. Perhaps he'd even being doing Lion a favour by releasing him from the torment otherwise known as Tom…

Alex thumbed through his contacts, set on his new solution to boredom, picked out Tom's number and dialled it.

The phone began to ring, and literally only got through one chime before an out of breath and vehement voice answered,

"Hello, Cub?"

It was Lion, who had obviously read the caller ID.

"Lion?" Alex replied, completely unaware of how Tom's guardian had gotten hold of his mobile, "Is… um… Is Tom in?" He heard a growl emitted from Lion's end,

"No, he isn't… _fortunately_," he ground out the last word with so much venom Alex was beginning to dread more and more what Tom _had_ done exactly, "I was actually hoping you had an idea of where he might be."

"Why would I…" Alex's voice trailed off, new thoughts replacing the question still forming n his tongue, "Wait; if he's not at yours, then where is he?"

There was a pause on Lion's end, a few muttering voices away from the phone and then he returned,

"I don't know." Alex paused himself, considering whether to pursue who Lion's mystery guest was or find Tom. He made his mind up quickly,

"Lion… who else is with you?" another hanging moment of silence from Lion,

"There's no one else with me Alex…" he tried covering up, his voice cold like steel. Alex wasn't deterred,

"Lion tell me who else is there," he demanded, his voice taking on the same quality, "Don't make me order you to tell me." Lion snorted,

"You? You're just a kid! You can't command me about!"

"Actually… yes I can," Alex began, his tone blank yet sinister, "Why? Because since becoming one of the benefactors for the Omega investigation I've now gained higher temporary authority equalling that of Silver or Jones. If I say jump, you ask how high, and if I ask who's there with you, you tell me he exact name of the person who's there!"

"Geez, what's gotten into you?" Lion whined realising he was going to have rank pulled up on him, "Seriously Cub, you're acting like a prat."

"That's only because I got thinking," Alex answered, "If Mrs Jones is Omega, then who else that I thought I knew are Omega? Could it be Ben? Wolf? Hell, it could even be Tom if he could be calm for twenty minutes. So I have to be suspicious of everyone now; including _you_ – more so, in fact, since we never met until all this happened. So you are going to tell me who's with you or I'm going to have you arrested and incarcerated."

There was another pregnant pause as Lion debilitated his options; another muttering of voices.

"It's Eagle."

"Eagle?" Alex asked, bemused, "What's Eagle doing at your place?"

"Long story short; we're talking about some serious shit, so let's put our private lives aside and focus on the more important question of where Tom is." Lion dismissed, obviously refusing to talk about why Eagle was there. Alex sighed, turning his attention back to the task at hand, considering now that Lion wouldn't back down after being riled up,

"So you have no idea?"

"Nope, he just left about an hour or so ago," Lion provided, "He left his phone here by accident, I think."

Sudden panic rose in Alex's chest,

"So he didn't say who he was going to meet, or who with. He just went? _On his own_?" he punctuated, trying to keep his imagination in check and keep alert. Lion didn't quite grasp the situation,

"Yeah, why?"

Alex swore violently, hanging up and grabbing his jacket that was draped over the back of the sofa. He made a mad dash for the door, pocketing what gadgets he could and his keys before hurtling outside set on finding Tom before Omega had the chance to.

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Tom was aimlessly wandering down the high street, not paying close attention to anyone that passed him or the store windows. He was too busy congratulating himself on a job well done.

It had gone off flawlessly, the perfect plan to introduce his guardian to Eagle. Boredom did many strange things to Tom, and he supposed that that had been one of them. It wasn't like he had hurt anybody, or played the most devilish prank; he couldn't understand why people were getting so upset and angry over the whole situation. It wasn't even like he had tried world domination or anything!

All said, it had been embarrassing and awkward when Eagle and Lion had come home together. Tom had expected them to ask him to wear ear plugs and escape off to the bedroom – like it usually happened in the movies tom had watched where the kid had brought together a couple. What he hadn't expected was a tremendous lecture by Lion with a just as furious Eagle. It seemed that meddling with people's love lives wasn't something you were supposed to do; but Tom couldn't see the harm in it. They hadn't even shown an ounce of gratitude for him booking a table for them and paid with what little cash he had!

He kicked a loose stone along the pavement, and it skittered through the sea of legs. In the end, Eagle had slept on the sofa bed, since neither could drive because they had drunk and nor did they want to fork out for another taxi fare from one side of London to the other. He had had to slink his way out of the apartment to avoid both men…

Tom abused another stone, toying with it maliciously as he dribbled it along the pavement, his head kept down and his eyes focused on the stone. He sighed, even this wasn't interesting now.

He bumped headlong into the back of someone, the chunk of rock dancing away to freedom,

"Sorry 'bout that," Tom mumbled, staggering back a little, but a gigantic gloved hand flashed out and snatched his wrist in a vice,

"Oh you will be," the man said as he turned around fully. His face was clean shaven, a horrendous rash replacing what should have been the man's jawline. His eyes were milky white with a haunting shine to them. Tom struggled in the grip,

"Let me go!" he bellowed, "I said I was sorry!"

The man sneered, a thin sinister smile that curled upon his lips. His other hand emerged from the other sleeve and reached out for Tom's face. He flinched away in a futile bid to avoid the oncoming hand.

But with no warning, Tom's attacker went wide eyed, jerked and stood bolt upright his hand flexing tighter for just a second before going completely slack. He crumpled to the floor, piling up like a rubbish bag chucked to the side of the road. Tom rubbed his hand unconsciously, easing the pain as he wondered what on Earth happened. He took a leap back as suddenly the man burst into flames.

Another hand grasped his sore wrist again, and he was once more being tugged along by an unknown assailant. He resisted, pulling with all his might against the new attacker.

"Stop it!" a harsh but feminine voice said, the figure in front of him dragging him along, "I'm trying to save you!"

Now both confused and annoyed, Tom fought back some more as he was dragged into a shop, the sound of running footsteps behind him. The figure ahead of him threw him behind a carefully laid out display and pulled several other racks of clothing and tables to cover their view. They turned around, finally facing Tom.

It was a girl, dressed in a ridiculously long trench coat that hung limply by her ankles. The collar was pulled up around her neck obscuring most of her face, but Tom could just see past the locks of hair brushed over her forehead. An eye was left visible, a bold azure that stood out amongst the black. Freckles pattered her cheeks and she huffed irritably at Tom,

"Have you no common sense?" she hissed wildly, "There are evil, ruthless and demonic criminals after you and yet you're walking about in broad daylight? _ON YOUR OWN?_"

"I-" Tom began, but the girl whirled around when she heard the sound of urgent muttered voices.

"Damn it!" she mumbled to herself, not bothering with Tom anymore, "They're already here…"

Tom's attention was distracted by a giant jar of cookies upon the counter behind him. But what caught his eye the most was the label plastered across the front reading:

FREE COOKIE SAMPLE

Delight lit up across Tom's face as he reached up and grabbed the jar, promptly flicking the lid open and taking out the biggest portion he could find.

"Shit… they've found us…" the girl grumbled, cursing to herself. She spun around on her heel, running back to Tom, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Cookie!" Tom said triumphantly, stuffing the crumbling goodness into his mouth, the huge jar tucked under one arm, "Cookie…" he said satisfied as the sweet confectionary filled his mouth. The girl huffed more angrily than the last, not at all amused by Tom.

"Gotcha!" a man shouted from behind them as he ploughed through an array of jumpers and sweaters. The girl went wide eyed, swearing violently as she reached into her trench coat, taking out a Taser. Tom, on the other hand, shrieked in terror and threw the jar with all his might at the man.

The jar sailed in the air, cookies toppling out as the lid slipped open, and then there was a sickening crack as the glass container slammed right into the man's head. Shards fell to the floor, along with a loud thump as the attacker fell to the floor unconscious, blood trickling down the hairline. Tom and the girl barely had a few seconds to start running before an explosion tore through the nearby area they had just been occupying.

"Omega?" Tom asked, pouting a little at having his day ruined. The girl just nodded,

"Omega."

She grabbed his wrist again and pulled him along. HE didn't try to resist this time, and instead kept up with the pace. There were screams of fear and horror as the store quickly set alight, flames flicking around the shop.

Without knowing where he was going, Tom was forced to follow the girl. The store entrance had already been blocked by a line of men and women whom Tom assumed to be Omega, and shouts and commands were calling out over the fire for them to die. It was a terrifying experience, but Tom kept his cool, munching on a cookie he'd pocketed earlier.

The girl barged her way through a storage section of the shop, shelves laid high with merchandise and goods.

"They're should be a fire escape somewhere…" the girl muttered, letting go of Tom's wrist as the doors behind them slammed shut. More confusion spread across his face,

"Hang on; if they're Omega, and they burn anyway… wouldn't they have already thought to block any fire exit so that we can't escape?"

The girl stopped still, her fists clenched. Slowly, almost menacingly, she turn around, anger steaming behind her eyes,

"I. Hate. You." Each word came out with as much fury and disgust that was possible, and she began talking to herself in a tirade of rage.

"Well, you _did_ abduct me. Did you just expect me to 'play ball'?" Tom elaborated. The girl's eyes returned to him, still burning with anger, but he wasn't fazed,

"I am _trying_ to help you!" she practically shouted, "But you aren't making this easy; so either shut up and live or keep making this difficult and die." Tom snorted,

"I might if I knew your name." The request took the girl aback; clearly she hadn't been expecting it so bluntly, if not at all.

"It… My name doesn't matter…" she stuttered, desperately trying to distract attention away from her, "Look... we don't have much ti-"

"No, you're right; we don't have much time," Tom said, idly admiring his nails as shouts echoed through the double doors behind them, "You'd better tell me quickly what your name is, in that case."

The girl spluttered, searching for a decent comeback in which to shut Tom up. But operatives on the other side of the door began pounding on the thick wood. The smell of acrid smoke and toxic fumes drifted in underneath and around the cracks in the door – they had only seconds before they broke through. But which would kill them first; the fire or the operatives?

"Joy…" she whispered, not really wanting Tom to hear. But he did,

"Joy? Joy who? I'd like a surname please… or a first name, if that's your surname. Or a full name if that's your middle name… or one _of_ your middle names. Is it even your name? Is it a pseudonym? Is it just _one_ of your many names?" Joy groaned,

"Joy Elizabeth Edwards, now please can we go?" she almost begged as the doors rattled dangerously on their hinges from the pummelling force behind them. A blazing orange backdrop silhouetted the men and women clawing their way through around the edges. Tom's face lit up once more as he finally got a name out of the girl,

"Nice to meet you, I'm Tom Harris."

"I know who you are!" Joy snarled, "Can we _please_ just leave now?"

"Thank the lord your parents didn't name you Patience… Alright! This way!" Tom said, taking a sudden uncharacteristic turn and took charge, instead pulling the girl along by the wrist. He wove in and between shelving units and crates until they got to the back of storeroom.

"What are we doing?" she hissed angrily, tugging at the hand that held her wrist. Tom didn't answer, even as the double doors to the entrance crashed open. Instead, he smiled faintly in the failing artificial light, and gently tapped one of the shelves in front of him. Joy glared at him, wondering whether he actually had any brain cells to work with. But her expression swiftly changed from one of fury, to one of disbelief as the shelves slowly began to lean. Disbelief turned to horror as the unit suddenly tipped in balance, goods and paraphernalia slipping to the floor. With an agonising creak, the unit fell finally, slamming hard into the next one, which carried the momentum and began falling too. Soon, the entire storeroom was full with the cacophony of metal grinding against metal and odd bits and ends smashing to the floor. In the background, the fire burned with ferocity as operatives filed into the now open storage. But they didn't get very far; the shelves bore down upon them, a rushing wave of metal and orchestra of shrapnel.

Tom didn't even flinch as the shelves collapsed around the entrance, effectively blocking out the fire as well as their pursuers. There were a few faint thumps as a few operatives ignited, but he just smiled calmly at Joy,

"What the _hell_ are you?" she said between a mix of grim satisfaction and unadulterated fear.

"A friend of Alex Rider," he said cryptically, and began walking off between the few standing shelves that remained. Joy called out to him as he left,

"Where are you going?" No answer. "We should wait here for my people to come pick us up." Still nothing; she bit her lip nervously, "Wait for me!"

She dashed off after Tom, catching up with him as they came to a service elevator. She looked at him sceptically, but he just tore open the door and stepped inside. Silence lingered between them as he waited for her to get on.

"What… we can't…" she stammered, amazed at Tom's level of innocence and serenity in such a drastic situation.

"Going up?"

The girl growled, unhappy at being led like a lamb by someone only a fraction of intelligent as her, but she got on anyway, seeing no other alternative than to put her blind faith in this madman.

Tom slid the grille shut, jabbed one of the stupidly large buttons and the lift jarred upwards, heavy gears chunking and turning as they pulled their weight upwards. Another blast shook the building, and the cage they were in whirred and complained. The floor vibrated and quaked as they carried on upwards.

A third blast, but the lift had arrived, drawing to a halt on the second floor. Joy looked at Tom with peculiar fury as he stepped out into some office space that was abandoned and empty with a fire alarm blaring somewhere in the distance,

"Now what?" she yelled, "I don't suppose you know how to get us out of here?"

Tom shrugged, picking up a pen from a nearby desk that he was leaning on and began twirling it around on his fingertips,

"Maybe; I know this place pretty well," he said, eyes intently focused on the flitting pen in his hand.

"Let me guess," Joy drawled, "You were shoplifting and the guards keep bringing you here? Or perhaps you keep causing trouble for the owner. Or maybe you're just a menace and a nuisance."

Again he shrugged, angering the girl further,

"Possibly… or I could have worked here for my work experience," he smiled again, "Whatever floats your boat." The girl snarled, her frustration building,

"Well?" she flicked her hand out, smacking the pen away from his fingers in mid-flight, "Find us a way out of here!"

Tom stared with mouth agape at her, horrified that she had thrown away his mild amusement. Then, as if nothing had happened, he pulled his other hand out of his pocket and began twirling yet another pen. The _same exact_ pen as he had had before. Now it was Joy's turn to look surprised,

"How did you…?" she spluttered as Tom got up and began striding across the room. A fourth explosion ripped through the building, and Tom was thrown forwards, the floor beneath him cracking and splintering as the fire savagely ate through the building.

"TOM!" Joy screamed, just as the cracks began appearing alongside the wall. The building groaned, shook and then began falling apart.

Tom collapsed onto the floor, his head hitting hard against the bare wood. Images blurred and his eyes watered as he swam through the pain. He could faintly hear the sound of burning and smoke poured into his lungs. He propped himself up painfully on one elbow, glancing back across the way he had come to see what had happened.

A wall of flames towered in front of him, and he could just about make out the glimmering form of Joy through the haze.

"TOM!" she shouted again over the roar of fire. They made eye contact for a second, a tiny brief second before the roof above her tore down, falling and shattering into pieces,

"NO!" he bellowed, hand reaching out uselessly as if to stop the fall of debris by sheer will power alone. But it was just that; useless. Joy vanished from sight as pillars and desks cascaded downwards,

"No…"

There was another blast, making it the fifth one and Tom realised he didn't have much time. If he didn't begin to move soon he'd be crushed as well, or worse burnt. He scrabbled to his feet, yawning cracks appearing beneath his feet and chasing after him as he pelted down the length of the office. He had never remembered it to be so long, whether that was because he was running for his life or whether it was because he hadn't really paid attention he didn't know. He doubted he'd ever know.

He tripped; his hands and knees scraped against the floor as he sprinted along the room. The floor was sagging underneath him, but he pressed on, picking himself up faultlessly as he done so many times during football training. It looked like his physical prowess had finally paid off.

Tom ran straight for the door as soon as it entered his sights. His hand clutched at the hot handle and yanked it open. He had been lying; he didn't know a single thing about the building or what went on upstairs. He just didn't want to be seen as a useless commodity. But he had gone by his gut – his instinct – just like Alex had told him to now that Omega was on the loose.

Behind the door was a walkway, blackened by soot and smoke. But it led from one building to another, a giant glass tunnel that would provide Tom with his escape. He was forced to trust his luck and leap onto it as the floor behind him finally gave way and shattered, falling into the fiery abyss. The glass tunnel creaked slightly, but held his weight. The charred surrounding edges provided him with the perfect cover, and so he freely ran along it, heading for the other side and freedom.

Just then, in his jacket pocket as he neared the middle, a small voice spoke out,

"_..om?... T… u the…?" _The line cut again, only to return once more, _"Pl….. Tom? C…n… hear…e?"_

He reached into the inside of his jacket, feeling around for what was making the noise. His hand fell upon the pair of glasses Alex had given him so long ago, and he pulled them out, filled with relief. He put them on, waiting for the voice to come back,

"Hello?" he asked, "Alex, is that you?"

"_Tom? Th…k… you're….! List… som… ocking… signal. I can't….." _The line crackled again, and cut out completely. Tom thought for a minute that the connection had been lost, but then another voice spoke up. Only this time, it was more distinct and pronounced, with no interference or jumbled words,

"_Hello Mr Harris, I'm glad to see you're still alive."_

"Omega?" Tom asked hesitantly, fearing the worst. All he got was a deep chuckle,

"_For now; how about we go with yes. I want you to listen carefully Tom: there are two operatives waiting on the other side of the tunnel you're in, and they've been ordered to burn the instant they see anyone. You can't go back no, the building behind you is falling fast, and it's only a matter of time before your current position will be falling too. What are you going to do?"_

The voice cut out again, replaced by silence. Tom's heart beat loudly in his chest, threatening to tear its way out as his panic began to rise. What could he do? He couldn't get help from Alex… Was he going to die?

A stern look passed across his face; he was _not_ going to die. He could get through this, he'd been shot in the arm, and he could manage. He walked p to the other end of the tunnel, and knocked lightly n the door, hiding out of sight behind it as it slammed open.

A woman stepped out onto the creaking walkway, scanning around for Tom. But he refused to show himself, and the woman stepped back inside, closing the door shut.

Tom knocked ever so lightly again, his knuckle barely even touching the door. Again, it slammed open and the woman stormed angrily out. But he wasn't there; he had hidden behind the door again. Her companion stepped out as well, a giant burly man with a full face beard. They both snarled in annoyance, believing themselves to be over reacting. They stomped back inside, and once more the door crashed shut.

For a third time, Tom, with the most minute and deadly quiet of knocks, rapped his knuckle against the door. He had barely a second before the door burst open and both his would be assailants charged out, expecting to jump him by surprise. They were still blundering head over heels as they ran out into nothing when he slipped past them and through the door.

He didn't bother pulling it shut behind him, and instead dashed down the stairwell he found himself in. He'd only made it down one floor when he heard shouting above him and the rush of footsteps. He increased his pace, flying down the steps two at a time until he came to the ground floor. He barged through a door and out into a store front.

Police officers and firemen dotted about the store, and all shot their gazes toward him as he stumbled forward. It took only Tom a brief second to realise they weren't going to help him; they were all smiling maliciously. The footsteps behind them were louder now, and he made the split-second decision to make a break for it. He ran through the assorted display shelves and made a dash for the exit, missing an Omega's outstretched arms by mere centimetres.

He charged past another operative, an elderly Police woman who snaked across the store with frightening speed and clawed at Tom's jacket and arm. Amidst the terror, Tom flailed out wildly at her, successfully connecting a fist with her jaw. There was a crack and she tumbled backwards clutching her face. Tom's fist hurt like hell, but he was more amazed by how the woman suddenly erupted into flames in a single second. The fire burned furiously as it peeled its way around the store. Most of the operatives were cut off now by the fire, and Tom couldn't reach the actual exit. He saw no other choice than to make one himself, and so ran at full pelt into one of the large store windows.

The glass splintered and shattered around him, crumpling into the impact. Tiny shrapnel dug into his skin, but it was nothing he couldn't live with. He rolled expertly into a ball as he toppled along the tarmac of the road, clearing the pavement as yet another explosion cut through the air. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and the air was nearly completely knocked out of him. He scrambled up to his feet, ducking into the crowd that had formed a semi circle around the blaze. There were a few murmurs of voices, but nobody seemed to either notice or care that Tom had just came running out of the fire.

There was a slight chaotic jumble behind him as paramedics, firemen and Police officers tried to take control of the situation, but Tom could pick out the ones he knew he couldn't trust. Several people had turned away from the disaster and followed him into the crowd. A paramedic made a lunge for him, but he moved further into the swarm of people, disappearing from view.

A sudden hand grasped his wrist, pulling him quickly and hastily through the throng and out to the side away from the commotion. Tom struggled all the way, imagining himself being taken away by an Omega operative to some secret lair. When he finally saw who was pulling him along, he ran ahead, instead switching roles and pulling his rescuer along with him.

Once he was sure they were at a safe distance, he whirled around, grabbing Joy by the shoulders so he could talk directly to her,

"You... I saw you…" he mumbled in coherently, trying to establish his confidence again, "You died…" She just shrugged,

"And I'm still alive. Who cares? We need to get moving."

Tom just nodded numbly as the girl strode off down the road, away from the blaze. There were a few calls in their direction, and two fire-fighters ran off after them. Tom sprinted and caught up with Joy, still trying to comprehend the fact that she had escaped the fire unscathed. He couldn't see even a tiny scratch, as if she had never even been in the fire at all.

"_Wh… re…om?"_ Alex's voice fizzed in his ear again, snapping up every so often and missing key words and syllables, _"Are…ay? So…dy….tr…ng...block the….nal. I… talk to…."_

His voice was cut off again, and the same man from before came on,

"_Ah… that troublesome brat… Excellent work Mr Harris! An unconventional solution, but all the same an effective one; I must apologise, however, you should not have gotten involved."_

"Who are you?" Tom asked into the sensitive microphone concealed away, "What do you mean?"

"_You see, Mr Harris, I'm building something new; something that's never been done before. Unfortunately, you have become an anomaly, an unexpected occurrence. But you've handled yourself brilliantly today. There may be room for you yet."_

"Room?" Tom said, glancing over at Joy, who was looking back at him, seemingly knowing of the conversation going on in his ear, "Room in what?"

"…"

"Room in what?" Tom shouted, but he was yet again met with silence, until,

"…_Never mind… we'll see each other again sometime. Ta-ta for now, Mr Harris."_

And then the line went dead.

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

"Where are we?" Tom asked as he was ushered through twisting passages and alleys.

"Nowhere." Joy wasn't letting any information. The tunnels they were zipping down were cut into bare rock, lined by torches and candles every so often that lit their way. Tom was being pushed along at a practised and quick pace, unable to stop for even just a second.

He was forced down another winding tunnel indistinguishable from the last. He couldn't even remember how they'd gotten down here…

"How did we get down here?" he asked, his mouth voicing the questions forming in his head.

"You forgot," Joy said matter-of-factly, as though it was to be expected.

"Well… yeah. That's why I'm asking."

"No, you forgot. As in, you're not supposed to remember," Joy held up a vial filled with a clear liquid, a rubber bung sealed around the top, "You forgot." She kept repeating that phrase over and over despite Tom's protests, so he eventually gave up. He would remember in time, surely.

They came abruptly to a heavy set of metal doors, the edges riveted and the surface glimmering despite all the fine dust drifting around. Joy finally stopped shoving Tom along the knock three times on the door in quick succession, and a final fourth bang to seal the code. Without another word – or knock – the door slid silently open, a fat, short nun awaited them on the other side.

Her cheeks were rosy, plumped out from her round, babyish face. Her gown draped over her figure, probably hiding the rest of her spherical body. Tom would have expected her to be sweet and kind, but when she spoke, her voice was dry and as harsh as ice,

"Is he the one?" she snapped moodily at Joy. She sighed,

"Yes _Sister_."

"Has he been processed?" another short icy remark a Joy.

"_Yes_ Sister." Joy shooed Tom past the bitter woman, smiling sheepishly as he trotted past. She glared at him, following his path as Joy herded through another door.

They came now out into a church, a dusty old relic of a place that looked like it had seen better days. Drapes hung from the ceiling, thick heavy fabric clogged with dirt. Layers of wax encrusted the floor, and the sound of garbled choir singing filled Tom's ears. Had he not known better, he would have assumed that they had just stumbled out into the middle of a service. But the rickety pews were empty, save only for one man. The choir stalls that lined the front were full of monks and nuns, all staring at Tom as he and Joy made their way to the exit. Tom could feel their gazes bearing down into the back of his neck, burning holes in his conscious.

The lone man in the pews nodded at Tom as he went past, tipping a cap in his direction. Most of his face was obscured, but Tom could see the curl of a smirk on the man's lips, and a shadow of stubble underneath his jaw and down his neck. His clothes were unremarkable, and only the wool knit hat made him stand out from the monotony.

Without much thought, Tom nodded back unknowing why he did so, just as the imposing church doors groaned open in front of him. He was roughly pushed through, Joy nearly slamming them shut before giving him one last order,

"Get lost Tom Harris. Go home before anything else bad happens."

The doors creaked shut, the rusted hinges flaking as the reverberations rocked through them.

He stood there for a few minutes, gazing up the oak doors as wind hurled around him. Occasional strands of hair were buffeted into his eyes, and he suddenly felt cold and exposed.

"_Tom? Can you hear me now Tom?"_

The lone standing teen glanced around, searching for the voice before remembering that it was coming from the lenses perched on his head,

"Hello?" he called, "Alex?"

"_Tom! Can you hear me clearly now? Tom?"_

"Yes Alex; I can hear you fine," Tom said, clearing his friends worries, "I'm at some kind of church… I don't know where, but it looks pretty derelict."

"_I think I know the place… Let me guess; Church of Ingrid Aarons?" _

"Why… yes! How did you know? Are you psychic?" Tom asked horrified at how Alex could've possibly known where he was.

"_Call it a hunch…" _Tom heard a sigh from wherever Alex was, _"I'll see you in a sec; I'm literally round the corner."_

In order to wait for Alex, Tom wandered around the grounds to find an exit. He was surprised at how uneven and unkempt the ground was, how the plants varied from only grass to weeds, and how each gravestone was near crumbling and shattered.

The grounds were quite expanse, considering the city it was in. London was famed for being cramped, dirty and bare, and yet here was this church, standing dead in the middle of a metropolis. Tom couldn't see the road; he could only hear the faint sound of trundling cars. The entire surrounding area was enclosed by wire fences and stretched tarpaulins that were stained a dreary mouldy blue.

There was a small gap between the chain-link fencing, a breeze block holding open a damaged section. Tom headed towards it, slipped through, and found himself once more on the familiar streets of the city. The dull grey was more of a welcome sight from the day's events. He heard the sound of running footsteps approaching him; he immediately tensed, expecting a fight once more with Omega.

"Tom!" Alex called, rounding the corner, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Well Alex," Tom began, switching to his professor voice, "I kicked a stone, bumped into a guy, said guy attacked me, guy got electrocuted, girl attacked me, got dragged into a store, ate a cookie, killed a guy with a cookie, ran away from Omega, thwarted Omega by tapping some shelves, escaped a burning building by playing knock-a-door run, killed an elderly man, smashed through a store window, ran away from the Police, paramedics and fire-fighters and later found myself in a church with no recollection of how I got here and when."

Alex stared blankly at Tom, taking in all the details, trying to comprehend what was being told to him.

"Uh-huh… and all this happened _whilst_ you were awake?" Alex asked, one eyebrow raised his tone sceptical. Tom nodded eagerly,

"Right…" Alex strung out, mocking belief, "Of course Tom… Whatever you say; Omega hasn't made a move since the incident at the warehouse. What happened wasn't an Omega attack… Let's just get you home."

"But I saw them with my own eyes! They just went 'BOOOMMM!' and everything!" Tom stretched his arms out, trying to symbolise how big the explosion actually was, but Alex just patted him on the head, smiling apologetically.

Tom stuffed his hands into his pockets, annoyed that Alex wasn't listening to him. His hand brushed against something pointed, flat and slightly crumpled. Tom fished around, teasing out a small card.

Curious; he didn't remember ever having anything of the sort in his pocket. He flipped it over in his fingers, Alex not paying attention to him as they walked along the street. One side was blank, a simple crafted white card, but on the other there were words printed in bold, black ink. Tom stuffed it back into his pocket; it was probably some kind of business thing that a random guy had given him at some point. It didn't even make much sense. As though to clarify the absurdity, he yanked the card back out, rereading the embossed words:

**α – We'll talk soon**

**So? I'm a day late… shoot me. Reason why it's taking so long is because I'm having stuff happen in my life… like friends suddenly distancing themselves and feeling sorry for myself. **

**We have another Tom-centred chapter here folks, just thought we haven't seen things from his perspective for a while. And we're getting back into the pace of things with a rushing, adrenaline pumping, jaw-dropping, terrifying escapade with Omega and impossibility. **

**We have a name too… Joy. Wonder who she could be?**

**Anyways, as always, I'll leave you with a note of what's to come (what's yet to come… I still need to write it ^_^;) and I've decided not to try and leave you on a cliff-hanger… I know how much you hate those.**

**But that aside, I have to go read some Alex Rider Fanfics that others have done. Good stuff out there, I suggest you all do the same. And if you could be so kind as to spread word about mine, it would be most appreciated, as well as reviews. (Just a few comments will do please!)**

**Next Chapter: You can't avoid Omega forever, and she's done pretty well so far. But there's only so much you can do to escape the inevitable…**

**Thanks – K9**


	24. Melissa

**Okay, okay, you caught me. The chapter is late, I know, and I'm awfully sorry. I'll just get out of your way and let you read after…**

**In response to reviews:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Thanks again as always. Your comments are appreciated! Tom is one of the most fun characters to work with. He's bloody insane :D Sorry this next chapter wasn't exactly what you what were expecting; we're just picking up the storyline that's all. (Also, side note… Joy isn't an OC… ;))**

**Josephine: Thanks! Glad you approve! V Here's your update V**

**Lightning and Blossoms: You have every right to be sceptical; you may be in for a surprise. And thanks, I hope you like this chapter just as much.**

**Jellie Smiff: Wow, I'm glad I can keep you in the dark. This may only serve to add to that mysteriousness… I hope you enjoy it just as much as the rest of the story! Thanks!**

**And to all the other readers who don't review; thanks for reading! Enjoy the next chapter…**

**Chapter 24: Melissa**

The bell rang once; twice; three times before Mel decided to finally draw herself away from her textbook to answer the door. She scoffed when she noticed her mother was far too busy chatting away on the phone to distract herself for a few minutes, and was dismayed to find her father thumbing through television channels searching for interesting news.

She clicked the lock open between finger and thumb, the door pulling open only slightly and catching on the brass chain. She peered through the gap, out onto the porch. Tom stood there, waving a little and smiling sheepishly on the doorstep. She huffed once more, closing the door again and unlatching the chain. She swung the door open fully, glaring at the innocent grin of Tom.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded, refusing to let him speak first. Tom spluttered for an answer, but again, she chose to elaborate for him, "I hear on the news that there's an explosion on the high street, which was where you were supposed to be. Then I hear from Alex that you were involved. And during this time, you didn't think to call me? To let me know you're alright?"

Tom fidgeted on the spot, but from behind Mel came the sound of her father's voice,

"Is everything alright, Melissa?"

"Yes Dad," she called back, "It's Tom… but he was just leaving," she lowered her voice so that only he could hear, "Right?" Tom hesitated, still shuffling around on the door step.

"I was kind of hoping that I could-" he began, but Mel cut him off,

"No, you can't come in." She stepped outside, pulling the door to a close, but open only just a sliver. "I'm sorry Tom, now is just not the time." She glanced over his shoulder, as though wary, "It's just that going outside, with you – or Alex – or anyone else… it's just becoming too much. I don't want you to get killed Tom. I don't want to die either. I'm sorry, both to you, Alex and everyone; I'm sorry, but please… _please_ choose. It's either Alex, or me. It can't be both." She finished quietly, trying to sound apologetic, but Tom frowned,

"Are you asking me," Tom said, his voice rising with anger, "To choose between standing by my best friend's side," he took a step back, "Or you, my girlfriend; the person I cherish most?" he asked, backing away slightly some more. Mel didn't answer. "Fine then," he said slowly; calmly, "I see; an easy choice."

Tom turned his back towards Mel, and began walking away. She didn't stop him. She simply stood and watched him leave. He didn't look back either. Tom spoke without turning back,

"People come and people go; anyone and everyone. But Alex is neither, and he needs our help. I refuse to abandon him when his life is threatened. So, if this is how you want it, then fine. It's over"

A tear trickled down Mel's face, but she held back the flow of the others. A sob rose n her throat, but Tom didn't hear it as she scurried back inside.

The door clicked shut just as Tom glanced back over his shoulder, wiping away a tear of his own. Breaking up was the best thing he could do right now. If he wasn't emotionally involved then Omega couldn't get at him. In order to gain a little security for himself and guaranteed safety for Mel, then they would have to lose what mattered most to him: his love. And it was a bitter price to pay.

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Early morning turned to late evening.

The day passed too quickly for Mel. She isolated herself to her room for privacy, distancing herself from her parents. She ignored their calls from downstairs, and before she knew realised it was the day was verging into night. Darkness had fallen surprisingly fast, and soon her bedroom had been plunged into shadows. Mel didn't move from her sanctuary to turn on the light. The darkness was a comfort for her.

A soft knock rapped at Mel's bedroom door. Her desk chair had been jammed under the handle, barricading the door from anyone who wanted to get in. As for Mel, she laid on her back on the bed at the centre of the room, surrounded by pillows and tissues, her eyes tracing over the tiny cracks that slithered across the ceiling – where paint had withered from terrible DIY skills – for the thousandth time. Her face was stained with dried up tears. Her eyes were puffed and red with whatever makeup she had been wearing long since smudged.

Mel's mother's voice called from the other side of the door,

"Melissa dear, are you alright?" Mel didn't answer, and continued to appraise her ceiling. Her mother tried again, "Melissa darling? Are you okay?" Again she didn't answer, and her mum tried at the door handle. The chair rattled and the handle jittered about, but the door remained closed. "Melissa?" Her mother's voice was anxious now – frightened almost, "Melissa Thompson, open this door. Open this door right now." Mel gave up on the silence,

"Leave me alone Mum," she groaned, flipping onto her stomach and burying her face into a nearby fluffy pillow, "I'm not in the mood."

"Is this about a boy? Is it about that Thomas kid, the crazy kid who's probably on drugs?" She pressed still, "Because if it is then forget about him. You can do better than him."

"I said leave me alone!" Mel nearly wailed, throwing a nearby Angry Bird pillow at the door. It thumped loud enough for Mel to hear. She stared at where the soft toy had fallen; Tom had bought that for her when she had got her first Apple product after weeks of pestering. Anger flared up inside her, "Just leave me alone!"

She heard her mother sigh from the other side of the door, and for a moment Mel thought she might consider prying for more. But then the sound of retreating footsteps along the hall reassured Mel that she was once more alone, lost in the dark. She closed her eyes, her face pressed into the folds of the pillow. The cool fabric was soft against her skin, and she felt herself drifting. What time was it? Sudden exhaustion kept her from lifting up her head as it passed over her in a pleasant wave. Sleep would be good right now. Just to sleep.

The sound of pounding footsteps slammed downstairs, jolting her awake instantly. There were muffled shots, she knew unmistakably from that horrible day at school. Dread swelled up inside her, fear for her parent's lives. Then there was silence again. Her heart beat faster and faster. Were they dead? What was happening? The footsteps started up again, what sounded like only one pair marching up the stairs. Mel panicked as she flustered about her room, hastily pulling on whatever pair of shoes she had to hand and a cardigan draped over at the foot of her bed. She stood stock still and stopped as the handle rattled violently, midway through tugging on the blue knitted cardigan. She held her breath, hoping whoever was at the door would leave. Already in her head she knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

"Mel?" A male voice called from the other side. She shook slightly on the spot as adrenaline began firing up inside her. "Mel, it's okay; it's Lion. Open the door please." Mel kept quiet, moving as silently as she could across the room to the door. Suddenly there was a heavy crash against the door, and it shuddered on its hinges. Mel reeled back in shock as another smash rammed at the door. "Mel, open this door; it's urgent that we get you away from here."

Mel wasn't so sure; she had heard gunshots. Why had there been gunshots? Why was Lion here? What was going on? The questions, stained with fear and apprehension, made her sick to the pit of her stomach.

"What's my full name?" she called out, betraying her instinct to keep quiet. Lion huffed on the other side of the door,

"For goodness sake's Mel, we don't have time!"

"What's my full first name?" She cried out again, fear building inside her. Lion sighed again,

"Fine; Melanie, now can we go?"

Mel stopped again, and carefully walked away from the door. It can't have been Lion, but yet it was his voice. What could she do? The only other exit was via the window…

"Mel?" Lion called anxiously from the other side of the door. She was running out of options. Lion banged at the door again, the chair shaking under the strain. Silence fell again, and only Lion's laboured breathing and Mel's panicked breaths filled the air. Then there came the sound of a drill, a sinister sounding whir of motors. The door shook; the grinding of metal against wood. It took Mel only a moment to realise they were going to take the door of its hinges. They had already taken off the first screw before Mel had swung into action.

She fled to the window, her fingers fumbling with the locked handle. Furiously cursing to herself between sobs, she rifled through her draws on her desk for the key. The rumble of the drill kept her going, and she scrambled with the key, hastily turning it in the lock. She got the window open, swung it out as far as it would go and looked outside and down. There was a small roofed ledge that she could climb down; it would have to do. With a glance back, she just caught sight of Lion tearing down the door. Terror swept over her, and with a strangled sob of horror she pushed herself up and through the window. Rushing feet came up behind her, and a strong grip clawed at her ankle before she could leap to freedom. She screamed out loud, flailing as she felt herself being hauled back inside. She thudded to the floor, her head hitting the wood, making her dizzy and disorientated. Lion stood over her, silhouetted by the moonlight from the window. Mel could just make out his face, grinning maliciously down at her, reaching down with large hands. Desperate to get away, she lashed out with her fists with as much brute strength as she could muster, catching him twice in the shins and once in the groin. He doubled over in agony, clutching at his nether regions – more specifically his crown jewels – swearing violently at her as she dragged herself to her feet, and made for the window again since he was blocking to way out. Lion only took a moment to recover, and dashed at her again as she was lifting herself onto the lip of the window. Having learnt her lesson the first time, Mel kicked out wildly, the heel of her trainer landing heavily on Lion's jaw, and tearing at his cheek. She gasped; shocked that she had just harmed another person intentionally, Lion of all people despite his sudden sinister turn. But he brought himself back around again, rubbing at the hanging flesh on his cheek. Mel wanted to look away, but something was off. There was no blood, no gore or any signs of pain and, to Mel's amazement, more skin lay underneath the previous cheek, fresh and normal looking. She watched aghast as the Lion impersonator peeled at the ruined flesh, tearing it away and pulling off the mask that hid his real face. It wasn't Lion at all; Mel didn't even recognise the man behind the fake plastic. He had an ugly sneer and crooked teeth, with a vicious scar running down his jaw bone and along the nape of his neck. His enraged, bloodshot eyes – unnaturally dilated as though he were in a state of pure rage – locked with hers, and once more she was spurred into action, tumbling out of the window and slipping down the shingles. The man rushed to the ledge, grasping out to try and catch something within reach. But he missed, and Mel fell to the edge of the roof.

She caught herself on the guttering, slime and ooze trickled around her fingers where dead leaves had clogged up the drainage. The plastic gutter bent worryingly under her additional weight. Her arms were yanked roughly, the sockets flaring in pain. The gutter shook a final time, and a lurching groan gave way to a snap before Mel plummeted down to the lower floor. Fortunately, a bush broke her fall, but fine twigs and branches bit at her skin, picking at the threads of her clothes and unravelling them. Jumbled in shrubbery and thorns, Mel tore her way out with gusto, determined to break free. Thrust forward, she collapsed out onto the pristine grass, gasping for breath as adrenaline started to leak and dissipate. Scratches littered her body, along with angry red and purple bruises that had already begun forming on her ankle. Mel looked up back at her window, to see the not-Lion curse at her, irritated she had gotten away so easily, and stormed back inside. She didn't have time to recuperate; she had to get moving. A part of her wanted to find her parents, to make sure they were alright, but another part – the part that was winning – kept telling her to run; to run as fast as she could. She didn't have a choice. Running it was.

Crawling up, she ran off in a sprint to the side gate, just as the backdoor crashed open. The man from her bedroom charged out, scanning around frantically for his prey. Mel went through the gate, it swinging back and cracking against its frame. The sound was enough to attract not-Lion's attention, and he followed after her in pursuit.

Mel sprinted down her drive and out onto the main road. A van awaited on the other side, the windows blackened and the engine running. She was barely able to take one look at it before the door at its side slid open and yet more men piled out. There was an angered roar behind her as not-Lion caught up, part of his mask still clung to his face by whatever glue he had used. She couldn't take them on alone, not in a million years; not ever. She had to keep running. Picking between left and right, and in a moment of rare instinct she chose to go left, making sure to go the opposite way the van was facing. That way should they pursue her by vehicle; they would at least have to turn around in a packed road full of parked cars. She could have a few seconds head start.

She raced down the road, weaving between cars and bins as a few masked men followed her. She came to a corner, and turned down it, instantly regretting her mistake. More vans awaited her, blocking off the road. Men and women were standing about, all watching her. Mel turned to go back, but realised she couldn't, as the van had already turned round and drove its way to meet with its comrades. She was trapped.

"Melissa?" a voice called out, a leering voice from beyond the crowd of menacing pedestrians, "It's not nice to play cat and mouse. Not when we don't have the time." A man stepped out, dressed entirely in blood red and crimson. His head was bald, and his eyes darkened by the shadowing moon. "Come now; if you come with us your parents shall not be harmed."

"My parents aren't dead?" Mel called back in disbelief. The suited man laughed, "Of course not. Merely sleeping, that's all. Now come with us and neither you nor your parents will be killed."

She had to make a decision. Go with her abductors and save her parents lives, or try to run again. But then she could be killed too. Maybe her parents were already dead and this man was lying. The group of pedestrians had advanced now, moving slowly towards her in synchronisation.

"Make your choice, Melissa. Make it soon."

Time seemed t slow to an impossible pace. It was too much; too much pressure. Mel just couldn't do it. Tears welled back up in her eyes, and she wiped at them, scrubbing their existence away. She wanted out. She wanted all of this to stop. She wanted her parents back. She wanted Tom back.

The quiet road was silent. Beautiful Victorian houses lined each side, flowering bushes adorning the walls and front gardens. Moonlight bounced off their towering spires, the windows like shined black marble. Serenity opposed against the horror that was taking right in front of them. Somewhere off in the distance, a dog was barking at the commotion, howling up at the midnight sky. It echoed throughout the suburbia. Then the screeching of tyres rang out through the road, quiet, almost silent, at first, but then grew louder and louder until the roar of an engine was loud. Mel was covering her ears as an Aston Martin Rapide spun round the corner. Its back end clipped the van that blocked its entrance, but instead of causing a collision, it instead just ploughed through the metal, tearing the engine clear out. A fireball erupted into the sky, briefly illuminating the otherwise peaceful street. The heat rippled through the air, and Mel could feel the tiny hairs on her arms and neck singe under the intense flames. An elated feeling of happiness and relief surged through her as she recognised the car, but that relief quickly disappeared when someone else got out – some other girl in a trench coat.

In the girl's hands was something, obscured in the dim neon light of overhead lampposts. The remained inferno left by the van flickered along its surface. Without warning, a flare erupted from the strange object, and the sound of gun fire filled the street. Mel flung herself to the floor as the onslaught of bullets chewed their way through the front line of pedestrians. They fell back like lifeless dolls, crumpling beneath the rage of steel. Slowly, one by one, they burst into flames, the fire curling and towering into a bonfire. The suited man ran for cover, hiding behind one of the still working vans.

"Melissa Thompson," the girl in the trench coat called, "Come with us."

Mel made a split second decision. The car had to have been sent by MI6 surely. Maybe whoever was driving would be more recognisable. Set with a new course of action, Mel scrabbled to her feet and ran towards the open back door of the car. Angry shouts came from behind her, and the thunder of fire only sought to add to the cacophony. But the girl stepped back inside after Mel, slammed the door shut sealing them away. The car revved its engine again, the wheels squealing noisily as the car spun itself around one hundred and eighty degrees. It then powered away from the wreckage, leaving it as nothing more than a smoulder in the mirror.

A dim glow lit up the interior, an ominous red colour that sharpened every detail. Both the girl's face and the driver's as well were obscured by the lighting, and Mel began to worry, fearing she may have made the wrong decision.

"Who are you people?" she asked cautiously. She flitted between the girl in the trench coat and the driver, begging for a hopeful answer.

"We are here to help," the girl said eventually, in an even tone. She gave nothing away, and Mel was forced to slide a little away as the car lurched round a corner. Through the back windscreen, Mel could make out the approaching forms of the two vans, the darkened vehicles looking almost like predatory urban sharks, hunting its feed.

"Best we have to offer, my arse…" the driver muttered as he clunked the gear stick furiously, driving the car's engine up another notch. The Aston Martin sped forward, accelerating quickly. Mel tumbled forwards with the sudden increases and brakes of speed as they swerved through streets,

"Who are you?" she asked, more confident this time, "Tell me who you are right now."

"Like she said," the driver answered, "We're here to help."

Mel leant forwards between the two front seats, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver's face. The car lurched again, and she was thrown ahead, sent flying head over heels into the passenger side. The driver swore under his breath,

"What the hell are you doing?" he huffed, yanking the steering wheel roughly left, essentially pitching Mel into safely into the seat, "Stop playing around! This is serious!"

"'m sorry," she mumbled. She caught sight of the driver's face, but before she could say anything the sound of heavy rain ricocheted into the back windscreen. The vans following them had opened fire, but there was hardly any damage being caused. The bullets just reverberated harmlessly off, barely even making a dint. The girl chuckled in the back, giggling to herself and deciding not to share what was so amusing with the rest of the occupants. The driver chortled too, again ramming the car into another gear, further increasing the speed.

Mel was pressed back by the force, kept into her seat. Seeing no other alternative, she grasped at the belt buckle, pulling the seat belt across and locking into place with great difficulty. Now strapped in, she felt only slightly safer. Fear still bore in her head, and its niggling presence refused to stop.

"You're that guy from the newspapers – that millionaire or something; Sir Adrian Brook or something, right?"

"Very nearly," the driver responded, "Aidan Brock, at your service. You can leave out the 'sir': you're a pleasant young lady. Not like that Orphan…" Aidan turned his head towards her, grinning at the petrified Mel in the adjacent seat. The girl from the back suddenly screeched,

"Look out!" Mel followed her pointing finger forwards just in time to see the blockade of numerous vans and cars all levelled out along the road. Their car's headlights glimmered along their sleek black surfaces, and Aidan roughly spun the wheel and slammed down hard on the brakes in a desperate bid to come to a halt before crashing. But the car had shown impressive durability when it collided through the van before; why were they slowing down now?

Mel's question was immediately answered as the Aston Martin tore through the barrier of metal, and a horrendous clash of steel against steel filled the car. Mel was lurched about in her seat, tossed this way and that as the car lifted up into the air, barrel rolling uselessly as it sailed over the exploding fire that had formed.

She screamed, terrified of what was happening, but she was unable to do anything as the doors collapsed inwards, the inside growing gradually smaller with each bounce and thump of the car's course. Her head was growing faint, and she couldn't hold on. Darkness swallowed her mind, along with the burning heat and grizzly pain that flared all over.

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

When Mel awoke for the second time, she knew not where she was, nor why she was there. She was hung upside down, suspended by a strap that ran along her torso, cutting into the exposed skin. Something wet and sticky dripped down her cheek, and then pooled on the floor below her. Shock overcame her daze, and she jolted properly awake, fearing immediately the worst. Was this her blood? The pain _was_ excruciating… Was she still in the car?

Running footsteps came around from behind her, and Mel strained for the source of the sound; twisting her head and neck around foolishly, looking for the perpetrator. Next to her, the door was tore off its hinges, the metal giving way easily. Flames of orange and red filled her vision, and the girl in the trench coat silhouetted against that. She reached in, and resting Mel's weight on one hand and fiddling with the seat belt in the other, she eventually tugged the girl free. Mel collapsed into her hands, allowing her to be manhandled out of the wrecked car and out to safety.

"It's alright," the girl said after a brief examination of Mel, "No serious wounds; nothing you can't walk off. Now we have to leave." Mel didn't bother arguing, and instead dutifully followed the girl as she briskly strode off.

"What about Aidan?" Mel asked, "Shouldn't we try and help him?"

"Aidan's gone." Mel was surprised at the girl's sudden terseness, but pushed it away as just grieving pain,

"I'm sorry to hear that…" she tried, but the girl spun around on her heel, and faced Mel,

"Not gone; _gone_. As in he's not here anymore. I have no idea where he is, and I can't find him. No shut up and come with me." She whirled around again back to the way she was originally facing, "We need to get you out of here."

Together, they climbed, skirted and clambered over twisted metal and flaming carnage. The crash looked far worse than Mel had imagined it. The few brief seconds she had been conscious were some of the most frightening she had ever known, but those seconds paled in comparison to the horror she was wading through. To think that had there been some tiny difference in circumstance – one more revolution of the car, just a little bit faster – then she could have resembled some of the charred, mangled remains of Omega operatives. It took her all her strength not to vomit or faint on the spot, and kept one hand clamped tightly over her nose and mouth. She set her sight straight dead ahead, and kept to the girl's shadow like her life depended on it. In fact, it very well might depend upon her…

"What do I call you?" Mel asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them, "You haven't exactly introduced yourself."

"Call me Joy for now," the girl said bluntly, "Joy Anibas."

"Anibas?" Mel queried, "Is that French or something, because it sounds odd. Are you just giving me some random name?" The girl spun around again in annoyance,

"It's best you don't now my real name," Joy said levelly, "That way it's harder for Omega to find us."

Mel gave up on questions after that; she had been shrugged off enough by Joy's dismissal to know that she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of her. If she did then she would have probably known the answer anyway. She was a harsh character if her knee-length boots and lifeless trench coat that draped itself across her shoulders were anything to go by. Her impression was one of a soldier rather than a teenage girl. Mel shuddered at the thought. Was the world now mass producing teenage super weapons? Alex had been the first, and Mel hoped with a heavy heart that he was going to be the last.

"We need to go this way." Mel stared down the darkened construction sight that Joy was pointing at.

"I've never seen that before…" she muttered, pulling the cardigan tightly around her trying to stay warm, "How long has it been there?"

"A while," Joy said evasively, "Long enough for people not to question it. An old factory; no one would miss it."

"Why would they 'miss it'?" Mel asked, but Joy had already jogged off, leaving her question unanswered. Mel huffed, sprinting to keep up with Joy.

They headed to the construction site, Mel might possibly have seen the factory before, but she tended to keep away from London's industrial district. Bad characters lurked there in the remains of hollowed out shells, buildings that had once housed ginormous, powerful machinery.

Joy easily sidestepped around the barrier that was put in place, and headed inside past the rows upon rows of pneumatic drills, hammers, screws, nails, and all sorts of tools. The place was deserted, with no guard placed on site to keep watch. Mel was uneasy. It didn't feel right. Something was wrong.

"Come on," Joy berated, motioning angrily that Mel should keep up. Together, they crouched and crawled they way inside through a hole wrecked In the side of the wall. Mel got dust and splinters in her hair, but she didn't complain, she only wanted to get to safety as soon as possible, to go home to her parents…

_Her parents!_

"What about my mum and dad?" she suddenly blurted out, tugging at Joy's sleeve; she turned swiftly, shocked at the abrupt touch and outburst. But she didn't move the hand, and her hardened expression became a little softer, if only for a moment. Her freckles no longer seemed like shadows that distorted her face, and a tiny sparkle came back to her deep blue eyes. The hair fell away, and Mel could finally see the girl hiding behind all the bravado and callousness, and when she spoke it was with a more welcome, friendlier tone,

"Melissa Thompson, I promise you you're parents will be fine."

A silent minute fell between them. Mel just looked into her eyes, summing up her promise and whether she was trustworthy or not. Joy stared back, her eyes never leaving Mel's. After a while, Mel just nodded, letting go of Joy's arm. The silence remained, and Joy's face became harsh and cold once more.

Mel looked around; she was surrounded by canopies of plastic sheeting and scaffolding that reached high up into the lofts of the building. The walls were painted soft pastel shades of yellow and blue, stripes that ran up and down and through the atrium. She remembered the leaflet now, a brochure stuffed through the letter box one morning. The factory was being re-commissioned as a new shopping centre, the Delos Square, and was going to be the next best thing since Harrods. Mel had been sceptical about it and chucked the advertisement aside. Now she was regretting it; this place looked state-of-the-art. Specialty magnetic lifts, automatic lights with dimmers and large ventilation ducts. Perhaps she might have squealed with glee at having a supermall around the corner, but under the present conditions…

And speaking of Joy, it seemed she wasn't quite finished. With no warning, she suddenly spun back around, and charged toward Mel. The already-frightened girl panicked, shrieking in terror that she was in for more pain. But Joy just barged past her, flinging her out of the way as she drew out a sawn off shotgun from inside her trench coat. She thrust it menacingly into the darkness behind them, and snatched at some unseen figure, pulling him into the light. She pressed the snout of the gun into the guy's face, the snub pushing at his nose.

It was Tom.

"Tom!" Mel shouted in relief and shock, "What… how?" Joy hesitated with the shotgun, relinquishing the weight slightly as the man's identity dawned on her too. With great reluctance, she let him go, burying the shotgun back into her trench coat.

"How did you find us?" Joy snapped tersely. Tom shrugged,

"I hung about; I thought something was up. When I heard gunfire I tried to follow. Then I saw the crash I feared the worst. But then I saw you two, limping away. No idea why you came here though…" Tom looked about, scanning the atrium. He wiped his fingertips across the blanket of dust and smirking, "Not very hygienic; what happens if someone's asthmatic?"

"Don't know, don't care," Joy said bluntly, "Can you take her back with you to Lion's or something? I need to get her off my hands."

"How do you know about Lion?" Tom asked, one eyebrow held high, "And that I'm living with him?"

"We have you watched." Tom's eyebrow went higher and Joy just sighed exasperatedly, "Everyone's watching you at the moment Tom; until the next time." And with that, she left, melting back into the shadows and away silently. Mel shivered once more, spooked by the entire events that had flashed past her in a few minutes – or was it hours? She couldn't tell anymore; time had ceased to matter to her for the whole wretched period.

"Are you okay?" Tom said, taking a step towards her. She sniffled slightly, rubbing her nose before launching into a giant bear hug. He stumbled back a bit, surprised, "Whoa, easy, its okay. It's all over now."

Mel sobbed silently into his shoulder, leaning heavily against him,

"I'm sorry," she muttered between shaky breaths, "You were right; we have to help Alex. He's our friend and he going through… through _that_ every day now. We have to help him. _We have to._"

"I wouldn't worry Melissa," Tom said, pulling her out of the hug just a bit, "You're going to help us all."

"What do you mean by that?" Mel replied, curious at Tom's sudden cryptic turn. Another thing came to her mind as well, "And I've told you not to call me 'Melissa'. I prefer Mel, you know that." Her eyes widened in horror, "You do know that. It's the only thing you can remember properly." She tried pulling out of Tom's grip, but his arms and hands tightened, putting her into a vice-like grip. "Let go of me!" Mel yelled, "Who are you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Mel caught sight of a flash of silver, glinting in the moonlight. She was about scream when one of Tom's hands slapped itself over her mouth, the nails cutting into her cheeks, producing stinging scratch marks. Her voice was muffled, and she barely even made a muffled shriek as the tiny pinprick needle pierced her delicate skin. Tom smirked maliciously, pressing down the plunger with great force, eliciting a disjointed howl of pain from Mel. He yanked the syringe out, Mel wincing as he did so, and shoved her backwards so she toppled onto her buttocks. She hit the ground heavily, and struggled to keep her eyes open,

"What have you done to me?" she slurred, fighting to stay conscious.

"Don't worry Melissa," Tom said smugly, "You'll forget everything that happened today." He held up the hypodermic needle, showing the label for Mel to see. The words waved and the letters jumbled themselves up. But she knew what it was; Garfield had had the same injection. It was Amnicon, and soon she would fall asleep and wake up having no recollection of the prior events. She would forget about her parents' safety! No!

"You bastard…" she slurred again, the word 'bastard' coming out instead as 'bus third'. Tom cackled, and reached up to his neck, feeling around underneath the collar. Mel's vision was fading fast, and she stayed awake just long enough to see Tom rip off his face, to reveal another boy underneath. Then the world went black.

The boy stood over her still body, the slight rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a mobile and dialling a number he had learnt off by heart. The phone didn't even have time to ring once, going straight to an answer machine that informed him coldly to leave a message. The beep sounded, and the boy spoke,

"I have her master." As soon as he had uttered those four words a man picked up,

"Is she alive?" he demanded instantly. The boy bristled at the condescendence, knowing he wasn't being watched, but carried on regardless, "Yes. She won't remember anything."

"Good," the gravelly voice said, "Bring her in."

"Yes Mr E." The boy hung up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket and picked Mel's limp body up as though it weighed nothing more than a paper weight. With captive slung over his shoulder and task complete, he drifted into the darkness himself, and all fell silent. No one had heard a thing, nobody knew. By the time they would realise Melissa Thompson had gone missing it would futile to try and find her.

Omega had Mel.

***Cough* it appears this chapter is considerably late. Oh well. I hope it was worth the wait. Was it? Probably wasn't.**

**We have major developments here. I'll let you make of it what you will. I shall try from now on to keep to my updating routine, but it will be considerably hard due to Christmas and mock exams I'm currently undergoing. Then I'm going to have to sort out my 6****th**** form/college (British, mind you) applications. I shan't worry about it too much; I'm pretty confident I can get the grades. (So yeah, that's why it's been taking so long…)**

**Your reviews and comments are kindly welcomed; I look forward to hearing from you all. Please bear with me at the moment, I've had a lot of stuff on and it's been difficult to complete this chapter.**

**I'm sorry to those of you who like/love/adore Mel. **

**Next Chapter: How is everyone going to react to the bad news? The time is drawing nigh… **

**Thanks to all – K9**


	25. Stolen

**So here it is guys. Please review. It would mean the world to me. Even just a one lined review is good enough and it really makes my day.**

**In response to reviews:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Thanks for your, as always, detailed review. I see you figured out who Joy is now. Good, good. I put a lot of effort into that chapter to make it dramatic :)**

**Jellie Smiff: I'm glad you like it! Thanks for reviewing! Here's your chapter for you!**

**JennaMastero: Thanks for noticing the error. It's now corrected. **

**Lightning and Blossoms: Don't cry! Thanks for reviewing, and I hope this chapter is as good as the last! **

**MonkeyDeRanged: Thanks for reviewing; I did kinda force you :} nevertheless, only one Tom I'm afraid. You'll just have to keep reading!**

**NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE ISSUED ONCE 6 REVIEWS ARE MADE!**

**Chapter 25: Stolen**

_The next day:_

Everyone took the news differently.

Tucked safe away, high above the rest of the world in her office, Mrs Jones was musing over the recent disappearance of Melissa Thompson. Mr Cartman stood behind her as she gazed in thought through her panoramic window. The office was silent; perfectly still and quiet. Mr Cartman held a tablet at the ready, hand poised to jot down commands, orders, memos that might be thrown his way. He was dressed in tweed, a small handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket, the initials A.C. embroidered in a fine red weave on the corner jutting up.

An air of unease settled down around them. Down on the city streets below people mulled about as though nothing was wrong. Yet up above them an underground terrorist war was being fought – and lost – by their government. How little the ordinary knew. How too much the extraordinary knew; sometimes Cartman wondered whether this job was really worth having at the end of the day. He shifted his weight back onto his toes, then back to his heels for the sixth time. He was getting restless from standing up for too long; his legs hurt and he needed to sit down and file paperwork that would last him well into the night. Melissa Thompson had thrown a spanner in to the works of his routine, and he was suffering because of it.

"Was it them?" Mrs Jones asked the biggest question that was on everyone's minds at the moment; was it _them_?

"We believe so; Omega abducted, somehow, Melissa Thompson," Cartman provided the daunting information; "There were no signs of a struggle in the house except for her bedroom. The door was smashed down and signs of a fight were witnessed. Only two people we presume. We managed to collect some vital evidence."

"Go on." Cartman coughed awkwardly, tapping at the screen in front of him,

"Well, firstly there were foot prints lifted up from both the broken down door and from the back garden; one pair of adult sixes, and another of adult nines. Melissa's parents were drugged up on high doses of Amnicon – more than what is considered healthy. They don't even have any recollection of their marriage, let alone their daughter. We're testing for other chemical traces but so far none have come up. A facial disguise – one plastic mask – was recovered as well. We're going to get DNA from it soon but I doubt we could link it to anyone."

"What about those agents who were supposed to be watching the house; Stephens and Chan. Where were they? Where are they _now_?" Mrs Jones drilled for more information, turning around and sitting back down in her chair. The seat squeaked as she sat, the leather rubbing against the fabric of her suit. Mr Cartman shuffled unhappily,

"They're gone too; they didn't report in after their shift. We ran several traces on the DNA picked up from the wreckage that Melissa was caught on camera leaving the last time we saw her. We've found positive samples of Agent Chan and Agent Stephens, as well as Agents Dixon, Walker and Singh." Mrs Jones thumped her fist down on the table, cursing under her breath,

"I hand picked them myself! And yet they turned out to be Omega operatives?" She said in disbelief. She paused for a moment, waiting for the answer that was never going to come, nor the solution that never presented itself. After a while, she turned her head, sighing. Swilling around in her chair, she faced the window again before adding more calmly, "If I can no longer trust even my own instincts, then what hope do we have? I think it's time. Get Harris and get Silver." Mr Cartman stepped back unconsciously,

"You don't mean?" He said shocked and horrified, "Ma'am, you can't! Just think of the consequences…" He desperately clutched at every excuse and explanation he could think of, "You said so yourself; bringing in an external organisation could undermine national security. Just because MI5 has agreed doesn't mean we have to as well."

"Then what would you have me do Arnold?" Mrs Jones asked softly, back still towards him, "We are at our wits end. When we can no longer tell who is friend or foe then what use are we? We have no choice. Make the arrangements. Arrest Tom Harris; bring him in." Cartman stared at the back of her chair. She didn't say anything else; her silent order for him to leave. He inwardly sighed in sadness, and began walking away, flicking and tapping at the tablet as he went. The door closed behind him and the office was once again plunged into silence. Mrs Jones smiled,

"It's also time for Omega to rise."

She chuckled softly to herself, which turned into full raucous laughter that filled the office. She grew hysterical, head thrown back in giggling glee, completely out of character. Everything was going to plan, and all because of Melissa Thompson.

Six floors down, eleven offices across, a tiny receiver picked up a signal that was being transmitted via a specially designed and encrypted code from the tiniest of microphones in Mrs Jones's computer casing – one that had been concealed there since its most recent upgrade; from this receiver, a new and further distorted signal was broadcast across the River Thames, past the burnout London Eye, only just beginning on its new construction, and over to the Houses of Parliament. Its destination was the Clock-tower, to where 'Big Ben' should have been housed. Once there, a second receiver picked up the signal, and automatically ran it through several decoding software programmes that had been created and installed by the Australian sitting at his desk. The new sound recording was then filed back together, played through once, twice and then a third time into the headphones attached around his head. Mr Smithers gingerly took them off, setting them neatly in front of him. It was evidence enough, and only evidence he knew for the time being. Friends were hard to come by and enemies aplenty. He had to contact Alex and warn him before it was too late.

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About half a mile away, Ella was trotting downstairs, sneakily avoiding her younger wailing sister whom refused to wear anything else except what _she_ wanted. Ella's mum tried desperately to get her into some regular clothes, ignoring the furious screams of disdain. Ella sniggered, skipping down the last few steps and into the kitchen with a sile on her face and a hum brewing in her head. But all that disappeared once she saw her father's glum expression. Snake glanced at his daughter as she entered the room, but his eyes quickly dropped down again to the swirling black froth that he held In the mug in his hand. Ella noticed the sudden aversion easily.

"Dad?" she said slowly, "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Snake looked up from the coffee, but his eye contact only lasted for a few brief seconds before he swivelled around to face the counter, tidying the already clean worktop. "Yes, of course I am sweetheart." he added as he rearranged the sponge and dishcloth, swapping their places. "Why do you ask?"

"You just seem… I don't know. _Off_." His hands stopped midway through upturning an already dry mug. Ella watched his hands with interest, seeing how they begun moving again, juggling mugs this way and that back onto the draining board.

"Why ever would you think that?" He said aloof in his own world.

"Because that's washing up liquid you've just put into the kettle." Snake stopped again, the kettle in one hand and the soapy bottle in the other. He put them both down carefully so as to avoid further disaster. "Dad, please just tell me what's bothering you and get it over with," Ella said exasperatedly, "It's almost painful to watch you fluster about."

"This isn't a joke Ella!" Snake snapped, throwing the kettle back down in its rightful place. Ella jumped back a little, taken aback by her father's outburst.

"Come again?"

"She's gone, Ella," Snake said sorrowfully, "Melissa's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Omega."

Ella's jaw dropped, hung between fear and shock. That one word sent her day into turmoil. Mel was _gone_? Was she still alive? Was she _dead_?

"What happened?" she asked with a dry throat, gulping down the shakiness to her voice. Snake sighed,

"Tom Harris happened. He did it. He's taken Mel. He was Omega this whole time."

"That's impossible!" Ella exclaimed, "Alex trusts him! We all do!"

"He was caught on CCTV Eleanor!" Snake shouted, "He was seen stabbing Mel, the poor girl, with something before the footage went black. I'm sorry, but we've got orders to bring him in with whatever force necessary." Snake got up, poured his till full coffee mug down the drain and straightened out his clothes. Ella just caught the sight of a Browning tucked into the waistband of her father's trousers.

"NO!" she yelled jumping up from her stool as Snake made for the front door, swiping up his car keys as he went. Ella launched herself at him, grabbing onto his arm and trying pathetically to pull him back, "Don't hurt him! I don't care whether he's Omega or not! Mel wouldn't want it."

"It's all because of him that Mel is gone. Now let go." Snake said coldly, with surprising venom. Ella reproachfully let go, staring numbly as her father opened the door and slammed it shut n her face. Never before had her father spoken to her like that.

And never before had she felt so uselessly helpless. Tears began falling down her face uncontrolled. Why was everything so unfair?

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On the other side of town, Tom was waking up oblivious to the storm that was brewing. He woke up oblivious to the mass of vehicles crowded out on the street below, oblivious to the armed men that were filing their way inside. He stretched and yawned as he would any other ordinary day. He got dressed, checked his online profiles and his messages. Strangely though, both seemed to be broken, as he couldn't log onto his account and according to his phone his contract had been cancelled. Brushing it aside as some technical fault, he ventured out of his room and into the kitchen where a sombre Lion stood fully dressed in assault gear with a gun lain on the table. Tom was mystified by the unusual appearance, but he just manoeuvred himself around Lion and poured himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge. He sipped at it gently, still appraising the peculiar sight before him.

"This is an automatic H&K MP5 – Heckler and Koch to you – submachine gun, designed back in 1964 in Germany and adopted by the British Special Forces. Its sleek black design, easy to carry and effectiveness meant it was kept in use even forty years down the line. This particular model has been fitted with a bullet suppressor and a tactical flashlight." Tom looked at Lion bemused at the soldier listed off aspects of the weapon laid on the table. He glanced from gun to soldier and then back again,

"And you're telling me all this because…?"

"Because I want to know if you think you stand a chance." Lion suddenly glared at Tom, the two eyes, the very same that had been filled with comfort and concern, now teeming with unbridled fury. Tom was speechless. "I want to know whether you thought you could get away with it and still have a chance. I want to know why you thought you could get away with it and still gallivant right under our noses as though nothing had happened. I want to know why you did it."

"Lion, I'm not sure I underst-" Tom tried, but Lion cut him off again, snatching up the MP5 from the table. He pointed the muzzle directly into Tom's face, mere millimetres away from touching the tip of his nose. Tom swallowed fearfully, dropping the glass. It smashed on the floor in a puddle of juice at his feet, shards of glass swimming in in a sea of orange. "Lion, what the hell?" he tried to sound tough, but he was terrified inside. He could hear Lion's breathing, calm and level as loud as ever. He became aware of the sound of rushing footsteps stomping along the hall outside the apartment, the door opening and those footsteps crashing inside.

Armed soldiers began to fill the tiny room, all pointing guns at Tom. He backed away, scared out of his mind.

"HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! DON'T MOVE!" They bellowed at him, and Tom's hands shot behind his head, clasping onto the hair as they moved to detain. Somebody, he couldn't see who, rammed the butt of their gun into the back of his knees. He crumpled over, falling into the glass-riddled puddle. He fell flat onto his face, his cheek and jaw being cut up and chewed into by the glass. His hands were yanked roughly behind his back, tied with plastic ties that were on far too tightly. They bit into his wrist and whenever he tried to move them even the slightest it only stung more, slicing at the flesh. The orange seeped into his wounds, only serving to make the pain even more unbearable.

Once they were satisfied he was incapacitated, they all stood up and moved out of the way, leaving him groaning in agony on the floor, humiliated. Tom strained to look up, fear and pain wracking his body. Somebody was approaching him, their shoes came into view. Tom looked up as best he could, straight into the faces of Alex and Garfield.

"Please," he said, out of breath, "Please, I don't know what's going on. Let me go! I haven't done anything!" Alex snorted, and Garfield laughed, crouching down on his haunches so he and Tom could look at each other better,

"Unfortunately, we both know that isn't true." He said aloud, "You were caught on CCTV, abducted Mel too early for your accomplices to cut the live feed. It's over Harris." Garfield leant down right next to his ear, whispered in an almost inaudible hush, "I know it wasn't you." He straightened up again, standing back to his full height. "Tom Harris you are under arrest for the suspected abduction and possible murder of Melissa Thompson. You have the right to remain silent and the rest of that lark. Somebody else will prattle if for you. Other than that; you are _so_ dead."

Tom's mouth dropped in a silent 'o'. He didn't say anything for a while, and allowed himself to be manhandled up off the floor. It felt wrong. His body felt alien to him – like he didn't belong there. And somehow, it was his entire fault. Melissa was gone. And he'd turned his back on her.

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Mrs Jones strode along the walkway that ran high above the Clock-tower. This was a passage she had walked along so many times before, safe and tucked away from accusing eyes. Everybody was looking at their peers and questioning their loyalty whereas she was free of suspicion, free to waltz wherever and whenever she pleased.

The perfect disguise.

It had taken years to achieve this position. Blunt had been a thorn in her side for a long time, and she had had to break cover just to realise Omega's plan sooner. Then there had been struggles with MI5, and suddenly Project Viking was thrown into the mix. It spoiled her slick approach of corruption and conquering rather than brute force. But she would make do; she had made it this far, it had taken this long. Within twenty four hours and it would all be over. Omega would win once and for all. That though alone made her giggle slightly, the unusual action very strange and wrong to her.

She came to a door; a chamber was suspended high above in the Clock-tower. It was bell shaped, fashioned out of smooth and unyielding chrome and steel. There was only one way in, through the door Mrs Jones was standing at right now. Very few people had access, and she knew with regret that once she enacted her plot then she would be exposed. But the arrangements had been made; they had made a swift, albeit risky victory with the kidnap of Melissa. She smiled, her slender fingers tapping at the fingerprint sensitive keypad. The buttons monitored the multitude of minuscule lines and fine prints, whilst also looking for the unmistakable pulse and heat within those tips. Mrs Jones pressed her eye against the glowing green light, the lasers scanning for the iris, pupil and more into the retina beyond. It was all too easy. Why force yourself into a disguise when if you lie long enough the disguise becomes you? Tulip Jones was nothing more than a clever invention; and it had worked perfectly. She hardly even remembered her own true identity. Tulip Jones _was_ her. Tulip Jones _is_ her.

A ring alerted her to the door sliding open, granting her access. She stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind her. An automatic airlock engaged, a sudden rush of warm air pumped out and replaced with frigid chills. She didn't even flinch, having memorised the exact routine in which she was about to embark. Ten seconds later, counting down in her head silently, and the opposite door opened, and the steady thrum of servers rang out into her ears. She knew that had been coming as well. She knew how cameras, regardless of who she was, would follow her throughout the Bell now right up until the moment she leaves. Motion sensors and pressure pads littered the entire room, each out to catch a single toe out of line. But this was hardly the trickiest part; no, that came later. For now, all she had to do was find the blind spot. Now _that_ was easy.

Tracing a map she knew all too well in her head, Mrs Jones took the first few steps forward. Cameras immediately picked her up, zooming in, refocusing and broadcasting their image to a screen far from the room itself. She didn't worry, and hedged forwards further, making a sudden right turn as she did so. Two paces forwards, then left, and then right immediately; six steps ahead, then a draft from the ventilation. From here, take three side steps between the servers, whilst avoiding the overhead cable that had come loose six weeks ago. All of it was just from her head, information she had drilled in months ago. She'd had to; it was her job as head of MI6 to know all about future developments, constructions and facilities, all of which made her perfect for the job.

She came to a stop, in front of a server that was in dire need of repairs. Covering herself by turning her back to the camera that was following her, she began to move her hands around as though she really were doing something with them. This was to fool the cameras. It would be one of many blind spots she would go to and pretend to do something. The more places she went, the harder it would be for the technicians to review the footage and find the point of entry – it would give her more time to blend back into the background and out of sight before then.

On cue, the door slid open and shut again. It was a random technician, given special high level clearance by Jones herself. But she knew differently than the rest of them; he was a willing Omega operative, ready to die a martyr for their cause. He would make the distraction, pretend he were the real perpetrator whilst she could have yet more time to elude her own people. Mrs Jones nodded to him as he walked past, and he curtly nodded back, tipping the hard hat he was wearing in her direction. There was that dead glint to his eye; a man who had already accepted his death and its consequences. They both knew that he would not survive the next twenty four hours. He would be one of many to die.

He strode purposefully past, heading towards a column of servers right at the back, the very same ones that housed the most sensitive and private of information. They were also the ones that controlled the entire system, from the Clock-tower itself to the MI6 Royal and General bank. He wold cut the power on purpose, cause a huge commotion that would almost certainly distract the most incompetent of guards. He would be arrested, dragged away and interrogated. He would also sacrifice himself; commit suicide so that no one would be the wiser.

Mrs Jones paced to another server, and actually fiddled around with the wires. Unfortunately, this was not the best of blind spots. Here, she was in plain view of a camera, and she had initially hoped that it would be tracking the new technician given he was of lower ranking – and therefore less trustable – than her. But no; the camera stayed fixed on her, the never-blinking red light signalling she was being watched. She made it look like a routine observation, checking that everything was in place and nothing unusual. She appraised it, trying to keep her mind on the task whilst watching the other technician as he came to a stop at a set of servers. Quickly finishing off her inspection, she made her way to the designated point; she didn't have much time. She could see now the technician looking to make the cut.

She reached the server, and immediately began pulling out the hard-drives. She selected the one she needed; plugging in a cable hidden within her necklace. The wire was thin – infinitesimal almost – yet was stronger than steel itself. She took the fine cable and plugged the other end into her broach, a large mother-of-pearl oval. The oval lit up; it glowed with a vibrant pink before turning red.

Then it was done. Mrs Jones smiled to herself. Her broach flickered green, indicating that the virus had been installed and the entire database downloaded. But the broach held the most important thing to her; the Omega investigation files; all the files on Alex Rider and Garfield Viking; all the files on his missions, Garfield's assignments, Blunt's memos, the CIA's and the ASIS's willingness to use Alex Rider as an agent. The blackmailing, the corruption, the aftermaths; all in one little broach. Mrs Jones unplugged it, tearing the cable away from the oval. It instantly began to burn, fusing itself to the server and ceasing to exist. It was all too east for Mrs Jones to cover her tracks. Another server here and another server there was all it took to feign innocence. She wouldn't be suspected. Once she was satisfied she was finished and had eradicated all thoughts of disloyalty, she made her way back to the entrance. She let the door slide shut, reaching into her pocket and bringing out her mobile phone. She pressed a specially designed button on its side, and at the same time the technician cut the connection, timed perfectly together. The system went down. Lifts slowed to a halt, computers crashed and lights cut out; everything that was automated and controlled by the Bell went down. It was all too perfect. Mrs Jones grinned to herself, even beckoning the guards to come faster as they ran down the walkway towards the Bell. She shouted at them to capture and arrest the technician still inside awaiting his doom. A simple scapegoat to what had really happened, where the virus had ripped apart the network in seconds. She began walking away, acting as stoic and as callous when it had all began.

And no one was the wiser.

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_Meanwhile:_

"We know it was you Tom," Alex said, leaning back in his chair, tossing the folder casually onto the table. Photos splayed out, covering the majority of the cold metal surface. They were all the original copies, free of tampering or digital rendering. And they all showed split second shots of Tom and Mel standing in some disused factory, hugging each other tightly. Tom ran his hands over the pictures, brushing a few aside and reaching to the more important ones; digging for gold.

"What is this?" he gasped, clawing up a bunch of photos, images of him stabbing his ex-girlfriend. He couldn't believe this. This was impossible.

"Yesterday, late last night, Melissa Thompson was attacked by Omega forces. The last person to see her alive was, supposedly, you. But that may not be quite true according to these," Alex swept his hand across the spread of photos. He had a blank look, casual and calm yet so fierce that it scared Tom to see his friend like this. "We want to know where she is, and what you plan to do with her."

"I don't know!" Tom exclaimed, throwing the photos up in the air, "I don't know; I didn't do it. I didn't do anything!"

"Of course you didn't," Garfield said, leaning with one foot against the wall, arms folded whilst smirking up into nothingness, neither looking at Alex, Tom or the photos. Just staring up into empty space, "The cold hard evidence is obviously lying." He finished smugly, switching to his other foot. Alex slammed his hand down on the table, making a few sheets of paper quiver slightly.

"Just tell us where she is Tom!" He threw himself back once more in aggravation, "Why would you do this? Why hurt her? You loved her! Or was that all some performance, put on to fool us; one of Omega's cruel tricks?"

"No!" Tom bellowed, "I swear, I didn't-"

"Rider-boy?" Garfield began, cutting into Tom, "I think we got a twitch." Blue was looking at some odd wristband, and was examining it with great detail. Tom couldn't see much, his vision obscured by Alex sitting opposite. He didn't understand. Why wouldn't they listen to him? What the hell was a 'twitch'?

"How large?"

"Big enough to warrant concern," Garfield said, moving to the door and swinging it open, scanning outside past the guards assorted there. "I think we should-"

The lights cut out. The interrogation was plunged into darkness. Suddenly, the mirror set against one wall became visible, and its reflective properties were suddenly dissipated. K-Unit stood on the opposite side, each in different positions. Lion and Eagle were set away from the rest, Eagle disappointed and Lion furious and upset. Tom's heart dropped. Even those he thought he could rely on no longer trusted him. There, alongside them was Crawley, judging him with silent and piercing eyes. Tom was the criminal; he was there to be judged.

"We have a breach!" Blue shouted at the guards and down the hall. K-Unit jumped to attention. Lion and Eagle looked a little shocked; amazed almost. Alex leapt up from the chair and vaulted over the table, skidding across the photos. He fumbled with the hand cuffs around Tom's wrists, his fingers trembling with the thin wire. But, with hasty attempts the wire slid into the tiny groove, unlatching the cuffs. Tom pulled his hands free immediately, rubbing at the raw lines that encircled his wrists.

"I don't understand… what's going on?" he asked, extremely confused, caught between the conflicting dilemmas. Blue sighed heavily from the doorway, keeping his eye out for approaching figures,

"You're innocent; we knew that from the beginning. We just needed time."

"Time for what?"

"Time for Jones to make her move," he replied. Tom looked to Alex for further explanation, desperately seeking more specific answers. Alex didn't give him any answers,

"Are we sure it was her?" he said, making his way to the door, "I mean, we can't be sure, can we?" Garfield shrugged,

"With suspicious CCTV, the perfect scapegoat, complete innocence when she was around at the time? Yeah, I think it's her." Tom looked between Alex and Garfield at the door, then at K-Unit as they ran toward them from the observation room,

"Who's her? What's happened?" he demanded, anger swelling up inside him as he felt completely helpless. Alex huffed, heading over to meet K-Unit, quickly explaining the situation. Tom couldn't hear, but Garfield took him by the shoulder and turned him away out of ear-shot.

"You had an alibi all the time, Tom, we knew it wasn't you and you had already broken you're connection with Mel before the attack. It didn't make sense that you would end your relationship. It would have made the abduction harder for Omega had you been an operative. It would have been far easier had you kept close to Mel for a few hours rather than breaking up and making it obscenely difficult for yourself." He glanced over his shoulder, making sure the others weren't listening, "And personally, I had a hunch that you were clean."

"So what about Mel?" Tom asked, depleting anger melting away only to be replaced by anxiety, "Where is she? What happened to her?"

"We don't know; I'm sorry Tom." Garfield said comfortingly, "Unfortunately, we don't have any leads. This was the best way to get them. I've known for a while now that Omega was planning to hijack the MI6 database and attempt to steal the investigation I had accumulated. Rather than delete all the data I had saved up, it was far easier to use it as bait. I set up safeguards to make sure that when the data was stolen I would be notified. I deduced a while back that it was Mrs Jones who was the Omega operative, and hopefully this shall prove it. If we can follow her, we can catch Omega in the act, destroy them once and for all and find Mel in the process; a win-win situation."

"With Mel's life on the line," Tom reminded coldly, "Something you seem to be forgetting in this wonderful scheme of yours." He glared at Garfield he laughed sheepishly,

"There's always an element of risk in any plan."

"What can I do to help?" Tom said blankly, voice devoid of any emotion. His face was set with a stern scowl. Blue shivered slightly under his gaze,

"There isn't much you can-"

"What can I do to help?" he repeated in the same tone as before. Garfield stammered underneath the pressure,

"T-Tom, I appreciate the offer, and I underst-tand that Mel meant a l-lot to you…"

"What can I do to help?"

K-Unit had left by now, Alex a long way down the corridor in tow. Crawley was with him, a furious growl plastered across his face. Garfield watched them leaving, keeping his voice as low as possible as they all left,

"There is _something_ you can do…"

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Mrs Jones trotted down the staircase, attempting her best at trying to look gloomy, but she just couldn't do it. Everything was going too smoothly. A grin had long since spread itself across her face. But that didn't matter. With the system down there were no cameras functioning; there was nobody to consider where she was going, what she was doing or why on Earth she was so happy. It was all just so easy!

She came to the lower floor, an underground car park for the most revered of agents. Get in drive away and be rid of this place for good – and all in a days work!

She came to her car, a regular, boring-looking **car**. Dangling the keys in front of her, she unlocked it, the amber lights flashing in coordinated bursts. All she had to do now was to drive off and get the database pinned neatly on her lapel to safety.

She was just reaching for the handle, hand outstretched when something whizzed through the air. A loud, hollow ping reverberated through the metal of the car. Mrs Jones retracted her hand immediately, drawing herself into a crouch and doing her best to keep out of sight.

There was another loud ping as something else fired into the car, missing Jones by centimetres. She couldn't see her assailants, but she couldn't risk compromising the mission now. Deal with the 'intruders' later, get the broach back to base first. Her hand snaked its way over the small pearly oval, her finger circling its smooth surface. Yes; the broach came first.

Shuffling along, she kept her body pressed to the hull of the car, reaching with outstretched arms for the handle. Another shot, very nearly catching her hand as she whipped it back in time. There was something there though. A tiny disc had latched itself into the metal, fine metal spindles scraping and tearing into the bodywork. It was loosely attached on, and Mrs Jones swatted it free. Snatching it up from where it lay, missing yet another disc, she examined the unusual device. It was a hexagon, with a smaller, LED display in the centre, also shaped like a hexagon. The spindles at each of its corners were rigid, with sharp prongs that surely must've been strong enough to cut into any substance. Mrs Jones sneered; it was Smithers' technology. It _had_ to be. He had figured it out. Snarling, she threw the disc away, and flashed with a quick hand unlocking the door. Time was short. If she could get rid of the evidence soon and have a feasible alibi then she would be void of suspicion.

Creeping in through the thin slat she had made, she kept hunched down in the car. More shots were fired, each bouncing off the car. It was almost comical that it was the car Smithers' designed against a weapon he had made as well. Firing up the engine, she put the car into gear and slammed down hard on the accelerator, revving the motor. The cacophonous noise filled the garage and drowned out the multiple hits to the framework. Releasing the handbrake, she sped off, heading for the spiralling ramp that led upwards and away.

Behind her, Tom stared with one eye open down the barrel of the tracking rifle. Moving with the car, he did what could only come instinctually and pulled the trigger, the rifle cocking back into his shoulder roughly. Next to him, Joy smiled, praising him,

"Good shot!" she gazed down the scope of her own weapon, "Perfect hit. You're a natural – it's a good thing we've decided to look into you."

"I have no idea what you're on about," Tom said coolly, "But that was pure luck; a _fluke_." He dropped the rifle to the ground at her feet and stalked away, leaving her standing there with a bemused grin across her features.

"_Has the target been tagged?" _Garfield's voice burst into her ear suddenly. Joy winced slightly, but raised her hand to the lobe regardless,

"Yes, Mrs Jones's car has been tagged. You're free to commence tracking." A different voice cut in over Garfield's,

"_Excellent work _Joy Anibas_. You're making wonderful progress in such a short space of time. I'm proud."_

"Thank you Mr Brock, sir," Joy said solemnly, "I would never have expected to end up in this line of work to being with if it wasn't for you. If it wasn't for Alex…"

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The Rolls Royce Phantom pulled out along the traffic, keeping to the back of the crowd of vehicles. Congestion clogged up the streets of London, and Alex sat back as Ben manoeuvred his way through the jam-packed roads. Mrs Jones was, according to Garfield's navigation from two blocks away in the MI5 bus that she was turning off down towards the Thames.

"Where's she going?" Ben muttered as he swerved violently through two lanes of traffic. Alex supported himself as the car veered; his body jostling about as the engine in front of him roared and powered to keep up.

"The last time I was attacked by Omega I was brought to some warehouse by some docks," Alex provided, knowing that they had never been able to successfully track down the warehouses locations or whereabouts, "Perhaps she's heading there?" Alex looked at Ben for consideration, but he just shrugged, jolting the car left to avoid on oncoming taxi.

"We can only hope," he said, checking the small screen in the dashboard, "And if we're lucky Mel wil be there too."

Alex shuddered at the thought of Mel being in Omega's hands. He had to find her; if not to relieve the guilt and for the safety of Mel then at least for Tom's peace of mind, in whatever respect possible.

"Down there," he pointed, following the map on the screen. She was about a mile or so ahead now. Hopefully she would be so wrapped up in getting away and succeeding in her plan that she would fail to notice the subtly following Rolls Royce. Alex spotted a flash of dark green, "There!" he jabbed, Ben slowing the car down and moving it into the shadows. The place they were in looked so familiar; Alex had been here before. He had been right. They were back at the warehouse he had escaped from. The ruined buildings towered up on either side, debris and forgotten rubbish scattered about the gravel courtyard.

Up ahead, in a clearing near to the front of the entrance, Mrs Jones stepped out of her car. Somebody was approaching her, clad entirely in red. Alex recognised him immediately,

"Mr E…" Ben looked at Alex, who was bristling in his seat. So they finally had an face for Mr E. But then what happened next shocked them both.

Mrs Jones started kissing Mr E. _Passionately._

"Oh my," Ben said, while Alex held back a retch of vomit. He shivered in his seat, turning away from the two of them becoming better acquainted with each others mouths. Ben sighed,

"Looks like we found Omega," he turned to Alex, "So what do you propose we do next? Storm the building? Arrest Mrs Jones?"

"Eventually," Alex said measuredly, swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat, "But first we need to know everything. For once, we need to be one step ahead of Omega."

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Mel was stirred awake by the rattling of chains. The aroma hit her first; the pungent smell of rotting flesh and burnt chemicals. She choked, gagged on the rancid stench. By the times she had managed to open her eyes. The room she was being kept in was made of glass – or Perspex, she couldn't tell. The walls were slick with grime and moulding blood, making her physically shudder and gag some more. She tried to move, but found she couldn't. Chains and shackles were attached to her ankles and wrists, spreading her open in a star shape. She wrestled with them furiously, testing their strength. But metal won out over muscle, and soon she became tired. A strip of cloth was tied tightly around her mouth, keeping her from saying anything, her screams of anguish coming out as nothing more than muffled groans.

Something moved beyond her cell, and she desperately shuffled herself about just in time to see the door to the cell open, and two men thrown inside, bound like animals with their ankles tied to their wrists. They squirmed about, and Mel just had time to catch the sickening words of the gaoler* before the door crashed shut,

"You'll be dealt with later."

She shouted out as best she could, and eventually, one of the two wriggling forms gave her some attention,

"Oh my!" he said, worming his way around to try and get a better look at Mel, "It's you!" He lashed out at the other guy on the floor as best he could, "Will, look! It's that girl from Benny's party. What's her name…? Mel!"

The other man squirmed around as well, finally catching sight of the poor hapless girl,

"Oh dear…" William Daniels said soberly, "What kind of mess are we in?" Terrence Daniels stayed silent, knowing full well that now was not the time for pleasantries. Now was the time for a miracle.

**And so I leave it there dear readers. Did you enjoy? If so, let me know in a review. I WANT 6 MORE FOR WHEN I POST ANOTHER CHAPTER!**

**Such a situation we find our heroes in; Mrs Jones has put Omega's plan into action, Mel is still missing and now the Daniels brothers? Make a comment in your review as to what YOU think happens next. **

**Only a few more chapters to go now folks, so please stay tuned and I'm sure you'll enjoy the gripping finale to The Rider Conspiracy. **

**Thanks – K9**


	26. Capture

**In response to reviews:**

**2whitie: Thanks for reviewing, glad I got the suspense going again :D**

**MonkeyDeRanged: Not Joe, **_**Joy**_**. There's a big clue who she is in Melissa. Thanks for reviewing. AND I DO NOT USE FORCE! :D kidding, I wouldn't force a soul to review. I keep reading your story whenever I can. You must update too! **

**Jellie Smiff: Wow! Thanks! I'm thrilled that this is gripping for you! Thanks for reviewing! :D**

**Albany: Good to see you again, haven't heard from you in a while. Thanks for reviewing!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Thanks for reviewing; I'm glad you're enjoying it! I would respond to all the points you have made, but unfortunately I am pressed for time DX Many apologies.**

**Pang xiu zhen: Seriously? That's all you can say? ¬_¬ never mind…**

**For this chapter 7 reviews would be nice, but just do what you can, I'm not picky. I have kinda shortened it… sorry! XD**

**Chapter 26: Capture**

_*Previously:_

"_Looks like we found Omega," he turned to Alex, "So what do you propose we do next? Storm the building? Arrest Mrs Jones?"_

"_Eventually," Alex said measuredly, swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat, "But first we need to know everything. For once, we need to be one step ahead of Omega."_

Alex turned his attention to the screen,

"Do you see now, Cartman? Mrs Jones is not to be trusted."

"_She may be on a covert operation…" _Cartman flustered for an excuse, anything to clear the name of the woman he had trusted so much.

"**If I may interject," **Smithers cut in, overlaying the signal, **"But I have a recording here that may prove otherwise." **There was a fumbling of items in the background, then a tapping of keys. **"**_'It's also time for Omega to rise'._** As you can see," **Smithers continued once the recording had ended, **"Mrs Jones would not be all she appears to be." **

"_Very well," _Cartman said reluctantly, _"What do you want of me?"_

"We need you to act as normal. Allow Mrs Jones to return to work and keep clear all suspicion of her until me, Garfield and Crawley can move into place to corner her." Garfield butted in,

"_**I'd like some mock-replicas of those masks we found at the scene of Mel's bedroom." **_Alex huffed, and spoke loudly over Garfield, who began babbling about numerous other things,

"If we can confirm Mel is at this warehouse, as well as the rest of Omega, then we have solid reason to attack," he explained. "It's time we moved in and finished this."

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_Last night (time unknown):_

Ella sat with her back against the wall as gunfire erupted around her.

She flinched when a dead body toppled over the wall she was ducked behind, and refused to open her eyes and see the lifeless, burning corpse. Her house had been attacked an hour ago, and since then she had been running scared from Omega goons and strange men in combat gear. Without being able to tell her friends from her enemies – father turning out to be some masculine woman in a mask – and unable to contact Alex, Garfield or anybody else who could help her, she had been forced to flee. Fortunately, it was just her that they were after, and Ella's family hadn't been home. Only she had, and now she regretted not taking her mum up on the offer of accompanying her shopping.

Somebody was moving close, trudging along firing off bursts of bullets into the darkness. Ella kept quiet, shivering from fear and unadulterated fright. She could hear their laboured breaths. They were hurt! She could make a break for it now and find another hiding place. Maybe if they couldn't find her in a set amount of time they'd call of the attack. That'd be good, but she doubted it would happen. Her mind flashed back to the London Eye. They would be _relentless_.

"Oh Eleanor!" the man from behind the broken wall called out, accentuating each and every syllable, "Eleanor, dear, it's time to come home." He spoke perfectly with Snake's voice, eerie and sinister. She knew it wasn't him, and each time the guy spoke it was horrifying to know that he was using her dad's voice. He came close; very close. She could almost smell the singe of petrol on his clothes and gunpowder. She could sense his movements, his head looking this way and that, scanning for the terrified teenage girl right under his nose.

But then he moved away, limping off into the distance. Ella risked a peek over the wall, staring at his retreating back. Something moved behind her, and she was too slow to react. A sharp jolt was rammed into her side, and suddenly she felt very weak. Her vision blacked out, and her body crumpled into a heap on the floor.

The Omega operative stood over her with a gleeful smile on his face, pulling out a mobile and placing it to his ear. The boy smiled as he spoke,

"We got her. Eleanor McDonald has been captured."

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Alex sat in the car next to Crawley. The engine was ticking over. Garfield sat in the back, tapping away at the keyboard on his laptop.

"The data is most certainly encrypted," he said to no one in particular, "Even though they've now got an original copy, they're still going to have to get past all the firewalls and coding I've put in there. With the best decrypting software and hardware I'd say we have about twenty-four hours tops."

"So we have time," Alex mused, glancing in the wing mirror, "Good. We need time."

Crawley took out his Browning, checked the ammo and then reloaded the gun. His movements seemed fluid; casual almost. Despite the gravity of the situation this looked like a regular day on the job for him.

"_She's leaving her office now." _Cartman's voice came through clearly on the screen, simple text showing the caller, _"You might not believe this but Crawley's with her."_ Both Garfield and Alex looked at their John Crawley In the car. He gazed forward, unfazed by the new found evidence.

"He's an imposter," he stated simply, "We know that they are using masks. He could be anyone."

"And so, John, could you," Garfield added before gently pulling his laptop closed and into his satchel, "Now are we going to do this or what, Rider-boy?"

"Let's go."

Together, all three of them exited the car and trotted up the steps to the side entrance of MI6. Alex shuddered, thinking about the front entrance and when he had been shot. That day had actually had nothing to do with Omega, and had in fact been of Scorpia's orders. It was a novel thought that for once, Omega had screwed up all his life. Scorpia had done some of the legwork.

They went inside, the two guards posted there ushering them in without a fuss. Alex recognised the new refurbishment, the sleek glass and polished modern décor. The three of them stood at the centre of the room as they watched Mrs Jones descend from above in the elevator, a second Crawley standing at her side. The doors parted, and Crawley ran out, pulling his gun and pointing it at the first Crawley,

"Hands in the air; give it up, we know you're Omega."

"Agent Rider, Agent Viking, step away from that man!" Mrs Jones shrieked, clopping along in her high heels, "He's with Omega!"

"Then I suppose we should keep away from you as well, by that logic," Blue said, arms folded. Mrs Jones looked surprised,

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, before shaking her head, "Just come away from him. Be careful, he could be out to kill you!"

"He would have done that a long time ago," Alex suggested, "And killing us wouldn't help anything, would it Tulip? In fact, you could have killed us both a long time ago had you wanted to."

"I'm not sure I follow," she said, now thoroughly confused. She was about to speak again, but Garfield cut her off,

"We know you work for Omega. You always have done, right from the start." He took an ambitious step forwards despite wanting to turn tail and run, "You moulded Alex into the perfect weapon for MI6, all so you could tear down the British Government. Then you took me and did the same with me for MI5. Now that the time is right you've decided to expose us. You're going to bring down Britain." Mrs Jones stared at him, acting confused and amazed,

"What the bloody hell?" she exclaimed, "That is _the most_ implausible, impossible and down right stupid thing I have ever heard."

"Do you deny it?" their John Crawley said, "Do you deny being in allegiance with Omega?"

"Of course I do; who on earth do you take me for?" Alex took a pair of spectacles out of his pocket, and Garfield did the same. Alex whispered something into the sensitive microphone, and a few miles down the river Smithers listened to the request and broadcast the recording through the entire Royal and General building.

"'_It's also time for Omega to rise'"_

Mrs Jones listened quietly, hearing the message repeated once; twice; three times before asking Alex to stop the recording. The message stopped, and the whole bank fell silent. Everyone was staring at Mrs Jones. It had been her voice; there was no doubt about it. She suddenly stood upright, her back straight and chin held up defiantly,

"Such clever children, you figured it out. Well done. I would have expected it to take you at least twice as long to realise who your true enemy was," she sneered tersely, "Barely within a fortnight and already we are at this stage; such clever, _petty_ children." She snapped her gaze to Garfield, "You, the Blue haired boy. My dear _Project Viking_ finally maturing. You're still scared. Look at you. LOOK AT YOU!" She was seething now, teeth grinding together and spittle flying in every direction. Garfield took a step back, his bravado fading, "You're an insolent brat with nobody to care for you! No mummy, no daddy, no brothers and sisters. You're all alone! Omega is many, you are just one you incompetent imp." She glared at Alex who stood his ground, "As for you, _Project Rider_, you have surpassed my expectations. Unlike you're counterpart here, you have adapted and learnt how to cope and fight back. But how long can you keep fighting for child? How long before you give up? The only way out of this business is death. There are no other options." Alex sighed,

"If you're quite finished?" he asked sarcastically, "Where is Melissa Thompson?"

"_Um… Alex?" _Lion's voice fizzled in his ear, _"It's not just Mel anymore whose been taken. Fox's brothers and Snake's daughter are gone as well. We just got word now, definitely Omega." _

Alex swore, stamping his foot. It wasn't fair! It was always him! Always his fault! His eyes wandered back to Mrs Jones, who was standing there with a smug grin on her face. Suddenly, all his pent up anger and fury and misery rose up, writhing and boiling as he strode swiftly over to her. He raised his fist, pulled his arm back and swung with tremendous force only called upon by sheer rage. His knuckles cracked into the side of her face, and without expecting the blow she keeled over, stumbling backwards.

"BITCH!" he screamed, racing to the floor and grabbing her collar, throwing her up against the wall, "Where are they?" She started to laugh, cackling manically. Alex rammed her against the splintering glass again, shards falling away, "WHERE ARE THEY?"

Suddenly, there was a click as Alex felt the barrel of a gun being pressed lightly against the back of his head. He stopped, waiting for any commands.

"Let her go." John Crawley said. _Their_ John Crawley said. Alex relinquished his grip, allowing Mrs Jones to slide to the floor in a giggling heap, her hair dishevelled and make up smeared. "Turn around, hands above your head." Alex did as he was told, and turned around, keeping his hands raised and tucked neatly into his hair. The other John Crawley – the one who had come down in the elevator with Mrs Jones – reached inside his suit, bringing out an identical gun, directing it at the traitor Crawley.

"Stalemate," Garfield said triumphantly as Mrs Jones staggered to her feet, still chuckling away. She chortled some more,

"On the contrary," she said between huffs of breath, "The cards are in _my_ favour today, children." She clapped her hands, and the other Crawley swung the gun about, now pointing the pistol at Garfield. Alex watched passively as Garfield fidgeted about, unsure as to what to do. The entire lobby froze, people who were mulling about at the edges watching the drama stood stock still. They all stared at Alex and Garfield, blank faces and haunting eyes.

"My own personal little army, right in the heart of the most powerful spying agencies in Britain,"

Mrs Jones was smiling now; a gleeful, stretched grimace that Alex thought looked repulsive on a woman of her calibre. He had never seen her shown this much emotion, if not any at all.

But Garfield burst out into laughter, giving the game away. Alex risked a small steely smile as he found himself becoming much amused by the sudden drop in Mrs Jones's face,

"What so funny?" she demanded, stomping over to him, "Tell me at once what is so amusing to you!" Blue ignored her, instead turning his attention to Alex,

"Please Rider-boy," he begged, tears in his eyes, "Can I tell her now? Please, let me tell her!" Alex deliberated for a moment, then dropped his hands and shrugged,

"Sure; go ahead."

"What's going on?" she screeched, fists clenched so tightly they were shaking wildly.

"We tricked you," Garfield finally said, "We tricked well and truly." He was falling apart at the seams with laughter, "You actually believed… and that you were…"

"BE QUIET!" she shrieked, "BE QUIET AT ONCE!" Garfield kept laughing, and Alex found himself smirking too. He decided to carry on from where Blue had left off,

"We knew Crawley would be an Omega operative. Blue figured that one out. Should you be deposed or caught before the scheme could go ahead you would need someone to fill the role as head. Blunt was easy to get rid of, since the alliance you had temporarily forged with him turned sour. So you stepped in, took the role as head whilst playing to good moral executive. But what if you were to be taken out of the picture? Should that need arise, the next in command would take the post, and it needed to be someone who was both Omega and close. John Crawley would have been to assume that title, so we had him arrested. These two men here aren't John Crawley, and they certainly aren't Omega operatives."

Sensing their cue, both Crawley's lifted up their hands, pulling away at the masks that hid their true identities. The one who had Alex at gunpoint was Ben; Fox. He lowered the gun, smiled grimly and turned around to point the gun at Mrs Jones. Garfield's captor tore off his mask, revealing Wolf underneath.

"You never had the upper hand," Garfield said, wiping away the faint trace of a tear, "Not ever. Even these people aren't real." He gestured to the blank crowd around them. He mumbled something into his glasses, and suddenly the mass faded, disintegrating into specs of light then into nothing. "Smithers and I hooked up some of the Black Cloud technology into the entire lobby. We had the area evacuated and prepped without your knowledge and before you left your office."

"But surely they would have been run past-" she fumbled for an answer, some explanation that would solve all this. Ben cut her too it,

"Cartman is on our side. We had you traced yesterday and we got solid proof that you are involved with Omega." He motioned with the handgun, "So if you'd like to come quietly, please, if you could be so kind." Mrs Jones stood there gobsmacked, jaw hanging wide open. She clacked it shut, her whole body stiffening.

"No."

Wolf and Ben looked between each other, both thinking of ways to get her to cooperate or surrender easily. Neither of them trusted her; she could burst into flames at any second.

"You are weak. And we are strong," Mrs Jones began to rant, unbuttoning her blazer to reveal the thin strips of explosive padded down her clothing. Immediately, Wolf, Ben and Alex moved into action, dashing for the door. Garfield stood there, mesmerised by the powdery white lumps of explosive. But he was more interested in the tiny gash in the side of Mrs Jones's face.

"She's not Mrs Jones at all…" he murmured, sprinting up to her and slicing at the mask. It came off easily, the wig falling to the floor revealing a random bald lady in place of Mrs Jones; a doppelganger. "She's not Mrs Jones!" Garfield shouted back, holding the mask high. His victory was short lived as Wolf ploughed into him, hoisting him up by the waist with practised ease and throwing him over one shoulder before running away again.

"Now is not the time to prove you were right Pup!" he yelled, staggering towards the exit being held open by Ben and Alex. "You're getting heavier," he noted absentmindedly as he felt Blue's weight jolt on top of his shoulder.

"Really?" Garfield exclaimed in indignation at being carried, "You complain that I'm wasting time on random things?"

Behind them, not-Mrs Jones reached into her pocket and drew out the smallest of blades. Taking the implement, she held it against her wrist,

"Omega will rise. Omega will be victorious, no matter what the cost. Victory will be ours!" She flicked the blade into the skin, nicking it. A droplet of blood dripped forth, and she had just enough time to smile before erupting into a violent fireball.

Outside, Wolf, Ben, Alex and Garfield were thrown by the blast, shoved brutally forwards by the shockwave. Ben and Wolf didn't go very far, merely stumbling down a couple of the stone steps due to their weight. Alex was sent careening forwards, thumping down a couple of steps before landing roughly on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Garfield fell from Wolf's grasp, tossed just a little further than Alex and slammed into the parked car, the impact ringing loud and clear over the fire.

Cursing, Wolf staggered to his feet, the noise of the explosion still sounding in his ears. He flashed past Ben who was kneeling clumsily by Alex's side. He slapped Alex's cheeks lightly, stirring the boy who gasped for breath. Wolf did the same, supporting Garfield who wheezed as his lungs sucked in much needed oxygen.

"You okay?" Ben asked, concerned as Alex stood haphazardly on his feet, swaying from side to side a little staring up at the towering inferno.

"No," he said after a while, watching the smoke trail up into the azure sky. Ben gave him a curious look,

"Why? What's wrong? You look fine…"

"There were people still in there," he said again after a pause. Ben suddenly knew the solemnity. People had died. Many people; people Alex hardly knew. It was only fair to share in his moment of silence.

Wolf shook Garfield, rejuvenating some life back into the kid,

"Come on Pup," Wolf encouraged, "Get it together. Come on, we need you."

"When the clock strikes thirteen," he slurred, groaning as his head pounded something fierce, "And when the apple falls. I've gotta know…"

"Pup?" Wolf repeated; worry seeping into his tone, replacing the once hard-edged, commanding voice, "Pup, snap out of it."

"The team… I have to warn the team. I am… the Orphan." He grumbled, slumping into Wolf's shoulder, the drilling headache pressing against his forehead, which he now pressed into Wolf's chest. Wolf just let him lie there, waiting for Alex and Ben to finish off whatever they were doing. No point in exhausting the kid.

"They've taken hostages, Ben," Alex said calmly after a few minutes. Ben turned his head away from the burning building from which people were rushing out of, "They've taken your brothers."

"I know."

"They've taken Mel."

"I know."

"They've taken Ella…" Alex trailed off, smudges of tears glinting in his eyes. "I'll make them pay. We storm the warehouse. We do it tonight. We have to get them back, stop them from exposing me and Blue and kill them all one by one." His tone was dead; sinister. It shocked Ben to see the teen he thought he knew like this.

"Alex… I…" he stopped, unsure of what to say at a time like this to him. He was in some kind of trance. A strange, vicious trance and Ben knew deep down he couldn't stop him. This was how they had used him before; manipulated his emotions to get the better of him. It was why he was so successful. He was driven by vengeance. "I'll inform the others," he finished quietly, heading back towards the car.

"What are we doing?" Wolf asked when Ben came near, "What's Alex's plan?"

"We attack tonight," Ben said in a neutral tone, not looking at his former leader, "Get everything ready and assemble everyone else." 

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**Bonus: I wasn't originally going to put this in, but…**

Eleanor was dragged along, her back sliding along the linoleum floor. Her hands and feet were bound together, hog-tied and humiliated. She had given up on kicking and screaming and crying. It was useless. She would have to wait until either she had more liberty or until she had a better opportunity.

She couldn't see who was pulling her along, they could be a man, or a woman or even a child to her and she would never know. As she was dragged through swinging double doors that threatened to slam closed in her face, she was suddenly brought into a painfully white room. The intense stench of clinical bleach and cleaning fluids stung at her sinuses. The lights were far too bright, and she twisted her head this way and that with her eyes clenched shut to avoid the piercing rays. Her captors chuckled, picking her as though she were no more than a paperweight and threw her into a dank, grotty dungeon.

She heard garbled groans and shouts, and the door banged shut behind her. Wriggling about, she realised she was not alone.

Above her, suspended by chains and ropes was Mel. Further behind her were Alex's guardian's brothers. All three of them had grotesque, horrific harnesses and such strapped to them, rusted metal and needles sticking in their arms. They looked revolting. Their skin was pale, a greenish tint to it and their eyes were bloodshot. They all stared at her hopelessly, beseechingly as though she may be their salvation. The brothers were stripped bare down to their underwear, and Mel had been left with some sort of surgical gown. They looked defeated, petrified and degraded just hanging their, almost waiting for the next horror to come along.

Ella gulped, staring back just as frightened.

"Help me…" she said meekly.

**So, I realise it is short and all, but I really haven't had the time to put as much depth into as much as I would have liked. I may come back and rewrite this or add to it at a later date, but I feel we need to pick up the pace and finish off this story.**

**We have dramatic turns here and there, and a dark, sinister finish.**

**I'll leave it for you to see what you make of it. Please review if you could be so kind :D**

**7 would be very very very nice!**

**ANYWAY! Pressed for time; gotta go!**

**Thanks – K9**


	27. Siege

**Got this finished just in time. Hope you all enjoy it!**

**In response to reviews:**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: I'm keeping with the dark Alex this time. I'm injecting a bit more realism and drama into this chapter. Hope it is just as chilling as the last. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Jellie Smiff: Ahaha, thanks! :D the characters fates are all up in the air at the moment, so nothing is for definite. I'm not that great, but still, thanks for the compliments, and your review. **

**2whitie: Here in the UK it is still a joke, so no worries. Thanks for the review regardless!**

**Bay2929: Thanks… really. That means a lot to me that you would say all that. I'm not **_**that**_** good. I hope for myself to get my name published on a book that I wrote, which I'm working one ( ;D ) but I can get very carried away sometimes. Thanks for the review!**

**Albany: Correct, I'm going to keep with the dark Alex for this chapter, and our hostages are being put in a horrible predicament. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Chapter 27: Siege**

The glass had long since been cleaned, free of grime and dripping mould. The pungent smell of chemicals sharpened the air, filling Ella's only remaining sense open to the clinical stench.

A blindfold had been wrapped tightly round her head, thick leather straps blocking all light. She couldn't see a thing; she was completely shut off from the world around her. With only her nose to go by and the muffled clatters about her she could only imagine what horrors were being prepared for her.

She was only so far aware of the three people around her; her friend Mel and her boyfriend's two uncles, Terry and Will. She could only guess at why they were all here, but whatever her guess might be it would most likely be right. She was their prisoner. A prisoner, a hostage and a specimen to Omega; a rusting harness was clasped around her, metal digging into the bared flesh. A bar spread open her arms and legs in a star position, and her head and torso were held straight and immobile. Jagged needles occasionally brushed against her skin, littering her skin with fine scratches that were pricked with blotches of red.

She had given up on crying hours ago. Or had it been minutes? She couldn't remember. She couldn't even recall whether she was still in the same room. Perhaps she'd been moved again. Maybe she was a billion miles away and she wouldn't have known better. The knotting fear grew larger and larger inside her, but still no tears came; no sorrow. Precious energy wasted.

People moved just beyond the glass, men and women in white coats pushing along trolleys laden with grotesque medical implements as casually as one might wheel around afternoon tea. There was a commotion about; people were hurrying in all directions. Ella shifted feebly against her entrapment, peering to see what was going on outside. Somebody was coming; somebody important.

A man waltzed in, blurred by the glass. Ella watched as he meandered around the room, sinister doctors sprawling away from him as he admired their handiwork. He seemed to approve, and with an ordinary flick of his wrist, gestured to the glass cubicle she was trapped inside. A timid man lead him over, unlatching to door for him and huddling backwards.

In stepped the man; completely lacking of any hair with pinprick black eyes. He was dressed in a three piece suit, entirely black save for the blood red tie and crimson waistcoat, finely patterned with cherry orchids. He walked about the four captives, Ella being the only one conscious. He made an elaborate performance of pretending only to be interested in the other three still unresponsive prisoners before mocking surprise and directing all his attention to her.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "One of our astute guests is awake!" He laughed merrily, "How rude of me to be so ignorant, I do apologise." He was standing right in front of her now, his face mere inches apart from hers. She shivered uncontrollably, terror boiling in her head. "What's the matter, my dear?" he hissed, "Are we afraid?" He chuckled again, lower this time and short, but just as menacing, "Good. Fear keeps us alive. I like it when my _experiments_ are alive."

Ella rattled at the chains, trying to break away, giving in to the temptation to run. He laughed again, enjoying the moment with great amusement,

"I must say, dear Eleanor, you have a magnificent aptitude for survival. You have evaded us for quite some time. Shame it had to end so soon – I was rather relishing in our game of cat and mouse. Unfortunately, this time, Alex won't be here to pull your tail out of the fire." He made a bow, "My name is Mr E, and I am going to explain what will happen to you.

"Omega has for quite some time relied upon the use of nanotechnology and pure luck to get by undetected. An operative caught in the field can destroy themselves in cause for the greater good. But in order to do so, they must first come to harm; an easy enough feat for the common man, but near impossible within certain circumstances. And even then, results are not always effective.

"But I hope to change that. As you may or may not have heard we make use of the Incendiary Particle to make our escape and elude the forces that seek to oppose us, but as I have just pointed out such methods are… _unpredictable_, to say the least. Violent explosions; horrific deaths; fatal flaws; but my research could change all that." Mr E pulled a phial from his pocket, filled with viscous brown liquid that resembled sewage. "This tiny bottle contains the answer.

"This liquid contains a new prototype for the Incendiary Particle, a version 'two point zero' if you will. This particle will not only be activated upon harm, but also upon remote activation, moving outside set perimeters or in some cases, defection and desertion. The new nanoparticle will give us total control over our operatives, and I find it fitting that our enemies loved ones should be the individuals to bring our organisation into a new era of power." Mr E leant in close to Ella's face, "And I'm going to make it _memorable_." He jeered the last word, dragging out the syllables. Ella was filled with new found horror. She began screaming again, unable to stop them as they came forth. Mr E just cackled as she wrestled with her bindings, motioning for a doctor to give him a hypodermic needle. He gingerly took it, pierced the wax seal on top and withdrew a small amount of sludge from the bottle. Ella watched, physically sick and gagging and wailing as Mr E brought the sharp needle to her skin. They made eye contact one more time, hers brimming with pain and fear, his with insanity and lust. He was getting what he wanted and she could do nothing to stop him. She shrieked and thrashed as he broke the skin, plunging the serum into her body, there to remain and torment her every waking moment. The needle was removed, cleaned and then thrown away. The deed was done.

Ella was left kicking and screaming in the cell as Mr E smiled, turning his back and walking out of the dungeon, leaving the Omega scientists to go about their work.

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"So what's the plan?" Tom asked for the thousandth time, idly fiddling with one of Lion's straps on his combat gear, "We do have a plan, right?"

"Yes Tom," Alex said absently, his voice aloof and distant. He wasn't really listening, he had just been agreeing with everything Tom said. Wolf and Eagle were talking amongst themselves over by some upturned dumpsters. Ben and Snake were pacing in synchronisation, keeping their distance from everyone else. They were the only two people who were showing any emotional stress; Alex was as blank as ever, and Tom was acting rather blunt about the whole thing. It was as though in his mind everything would turn out okay regardless. Alex just hoped for the best.

"Why them though?" Ben snapped suddenly. His eyes were glaring full of anger and fury, "Why take them?"

"Because they're distracting us," Alex said just as distractedly. He didn't even look at Ben, his eyes glued to the laptop in front of him, propped up on a stack of crates. Alex himself was sitting on a crate also, puddles pooling at his feet as somewhere a clogged drain spewed up water. They were in a backstreet; a small clearing behind some rundown pubs and nightclubs. The sun was hanging overhead, tipping down below the skyline. They had hours left before dark. The quiet throb of the city was in the backs of their minds and out of sight. With only the two cars issued by Smithers and a measly handful of gadgets and scrounged weaponry they were poorly matched. The question was of how to attack Omega.

"What do you mean 'distracting us'?" Ben bellowed incredulously, slamming the laptop screen shut in Alex's face, not just asking but commanding attention off the teen. Alex bristled, hands clenching into fists at the belittlement.

"I mean is that we're caught between a rock and a hard place!" he bit back just as furious, "They may as well be dead for all I care. We have no choice!"

Everybody stopped dead at Alex's outburst. Where Wolf and Eagle had been talking quietly now both stood staring at Alex and Ben. Snake stopped pacing, staring coldly at Alex whilst Tom and Lion kept their distance. Ben and Alex glared at one another.

"So they're already dead to you?" he said levelly, "But of course, why would it matter to you? It's not as though you care!" He shouted the last sentence, spittle flying into Alex's face as he closed the short distance between them. Alex didn't flinch, not even with Ben breathing onto his face,

"What do you want me to do?" he retorted, voice just as stoic, "We keep losing sight of the main problem here! Omega wants to overthrow the government; millions will suffer if we don't stop them! Four lives compared to a whole nation are petty. The majority wins out over the minority."

"So only your identity matters then?" Snake interjected, "My _daughter_ and your _girlfriend_ don't matter to you then, only your secrecy?" Alex sighed,

"No, it's not like that…" he tried, "I want them safe too, I really do, but if my life got out to the public you've heard what could happen. The entire government would be undermined, it would be toppled and Omega would step in to cleverly take its place."

"But Alex," Ben growled, "They're your own family-"

"No." Alex was suddenly terse, "They aren't family. This was a temporary guardianship. Once this is over I'm gone. No more spying. I never wanted this In the first place, and I don't care who's involved now or whoever I've got close to; I'm gone." Tom tried to speak up, but Lion stopped him, pulling his shoulder back before he could get up. Wolf and Eagle were silent still, and both Snake and Ben riled with anger. "We go in, we retake the data then we get out. Any rescues are bonuses. Not a victory; a _bonus_."

"How dare you!" Snake flared, raising his fist in a strange act of violence Alex had never seen. He didn't move, and allowed Snake to move in close for the punch. Alex closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.

The punch never came. Hesitantly, Alex flicked open his eyes, seeing Ben holding Snake back. Neither looked happy, but Ben was at least sticking up for him.

"What are you-" Snake began, but was cut off.

"He's right," Ben said curtly, "He's wrong, absolutely fucking wrong," he glared at Alex, "but he's right. We can't let our feelings get in the way of what matters here."

"We can't just let them die…" Snake murmured, looking at Ben's gaunt face, "We just can't…"

"I know," Ben stated, ignoring the mutual tears that ran down both of their faces. It was a cruel job, saving the world. Everyone close to you always got hurt. And at the end of the day, you were always broken. Physically, emotionally, mentally; it didn't matter. You were just broken. Ben realised with grim distaste that this is what it must've been like for Alex several times over; losing his uncle, losing his godfather Ash and losing Jack. Heroes had to make sacrifices.

"If I may, gentleman," Garfield cut in from a fire escape one storey above them, "But I may have a solution to our worries." He was leaning over a guard rail, a smug grin plastered across his face. The mere sight of Garfield having satisfaction in the current circumstance enraged Snake,

"Well?" he barked, "What is it?"

Blue chuckled, trotting down the steps with a spring in his step. He reached the bottom and pranced over, on the verge of skipping. Even Tom looked wary. Garfield had never acted like this before. Without permission or asking, Blue reopened Alex's laptop, eradicating what was previously on the screen. Plugging in a new USB memory drive, he opened up several new images. The unit huddled round, all fighting for a view of the small screen.

"See this?" Blue brought up some blueprints, "these are plans to the warehouse. Since Alex had us run a search for them before all this chaos happened we have them far earlier than I expected. Now, before its Omega occupation, any work done of the building was logged into the registry with the planning permission. This was the latest one I could find, and shows us what the warehouse looked like before Omega decided to call it home." He brought up a new window, "Now, with help from Alex's statements and good old Smithers," Ben huffed, but Blue continued anyway as though he hadn't heard, "We have a more up-to-date visualisation of the warehouse." The blueprint looked more complicated now, with numerous major changes. The diagram was in three dimensions, and looked quite complex. Garfield began to highlight certain areas, "The perimeter is kept secure by reinforced walls and regular patrols with canines. The roof is monitored at all times with easy access and helicopters on call twenty four seven. The docking port is in constant activity and it's amazing that such hustling movement wasn't picked up sooner. Unfortunately, it seems our ever-watchful government forces have been negligent in this area due to private ownership of the land and its derelict state." He sighed, but continued, "Even under the cover of darkness, this place is nearly impenetrable."

"'Nearly'?" Alex asked, "You think there's a way in?"

"I know there's a way in," Garfield answered haughtily, "But you won't like it."

"Well, please, do keep us in the dark," Wolf said, "You know how much we love not knowing what the hell's going on."

"All the more for teasing you with, dear Wolf," Garfield countered, "There's a pipeline that runs right under the Thames from the Royal and General. It connects the two sites. I'm shocked really that no one noticed it before, but the pipe doesn't appear on any regular plans. I doubt even Omega know about it; it was built years ago and may even be flooded. Smithers only found it on sonar when the R&G was destroyed. If some of us were to sneak up through this pipe whilst somebody else distracts them then we could counterattack them from both angles. Should they realise we are already insider and retaking the data then they could move their forces in to stop us. The group that provides the distraction can then split up further, one following up the rear, cornering Omega whilst the other goes to rescue our hostages. It's a long shot, but it's far better than just starting with an all out assault." Wolf appraised the plan, listening intently. He turned to Alex,

"It might just work. I second it. It _is_ far better than just racing in and saving the country and dying as martyrs for our government," Wolf leant back, straightening himself up, "I know we're unofficially Britain's last line of defence, but I'll be damned if I die tonight not doing some good. We save anybody we can and we destroy the data. So long as the evidence is gone we can let them do whatever the hell they want with the country; they're pretty much exposed now."

"I'm in," Eagle agreed. Lion spoke up,

"Then so am I." Tom stood up too,

"I want in as well."

"Tom, you can't" Blue dismissed, "It's far too dangerous."

"I don't care," he persisted, "Mel's in there and I've shown I can help somehow. I want in."

Garfield looked to Alex, then to the rest of the unit.

"It's not my decision to make," he came back to Alex, "It's your call."

"It isn't _his call_. It's mine." It was Lion again, buffing himself up to look larger than he actually was, "Cub and Pup are exceptions. You're just a kid."

"And you're an adult; what's your point?" Tom argued, bristling himself.

"You're too young."

"You're too old."

"You have no experience."

"I helped Alex in Venice, I took a sniper shot to the arm and I've survived a bloody divorce and loss of my parents as well, not to mention evading Omega every day so far. I think I can handle a few more intense hours."

Lion looked defeated. He was failing for further objections,

"Fine!" he huffed, "Come along, by all means! Why do I care if you could get killed? It's not like your life is important or anything!" he ranted, voice oozing with sarcasm. "Are we all in then for this suicide mission, or is it just Tom here that wants to walk into the lion's den?"

Everyone stayed silent, Tom with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Are you serious?" he demanded, "Do you think I just want to go in and _die_?"

"I don't want that at all, but you seem pretty insistent on it!" Lion scowled back, not backing down either.

"Mel is in there!" Tom exclaimed, "I owe it to her and everyone else to do my part to help. I want to be part of the distraction. Lord knows how many times I've been one." He cast a knowing glance to Alex.

"Let him Lion," Blue announced, "We need all the help we can get. He can go with Snake and Eagle in the phantom and storm the front gate."

"Wait, why am I the distraction?" Snake and Eagle chorused together in unison. They both bore down upon Garfield, who just glared right back,

"Because Eagle, you are going to be – for once- the voice of reason and rationality. You're the sharp shooter of the unit, and you're going to need precision to take out as many operatives as possible. Speed is the key to this. We need to move fast and eliminate as many threats as we possibly can before they retreat and make all hope of stopping them impossible." He switched to Snake, "And you are emotionally involved. If you get the chance you would rather save Ella's life rather than ours." Snake shifted uncomfortably,

"Now that's not true!" he defied, "I would do my duty!"

"For whom;" Blue question brutally, "Your country or your family?"

Snake stayed silent, the answer already in his head as many others around him. Garfield carried on, not waiting for the answer, "Omega has put us into a very tricky place. They're giving us a situation in which we can either fight for the greater good, we can instead fight for ourselves; and believe me when I say that it is very tempting to go and save our friends, but we can't allow them to win. Not this time."

"What about Ben, then?" Snake interrupted, "He's emotionally involved as well!"

"His brothers knew what may be expected of them, and I can't have him alongside you rushing off the rescue his brothers when we need him most," he explained, closing the laptop shut. "Do we have a plan then gentlemen?"

"It's settled." Alex said for the first time in a while, "Me, Blue, Wolf, Lion and Ben will enter via the disused pipe whilst Snake, Eagle and Tom assault the front gate in the phantom."

And so everyone went their separate ways, still brooding over what was yet to come. Nobody liked the plan, even Alex was reluctant, but they had no choice. He began to walk off; he had to make a call into Smithers to arrange for a gadget drop off.

Ben stopped him though, out of ear shot of the rest of the unit. The slight tug at his bicep was enough to grab Alex's attention. He stood still, neither turning around nor acknowledging Ben, waiting for whatever was to come,

"You didn't mean that, did you?" he began hesitantly; softly, "About Will and Terry. They're still your uncles, right?" Alex sighed,

"I left here wanting to get away from it all. Now I've been dragged back, thrown into so much danger all those who got close to me _for a second time_ are now once more in the firing line. They could even be dead for all I know!" he hissed, "I don't blame Blunt, he was a cruel man. I don't blame Jones as she was already evil. I don't blame Blue; he had nothing to do with this. The person who I most of all blame above all, someone I thought I could trust, is you." Ben's jaw dropped. "You should have known better. You've let me get in some deep shit. You couldn't have stopped Omega, but you could've stopped me." Alex snatched his arm away, "When this is over, I'm leaving. I don't care where or how, so long as I put all this behind for a _third _time."

And with that, Alex walked away, leaving a silent, guilty and broken Ben behind him.

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Shadows crested along the riverbed, silt and mud swimming in the bottom of the pipe. It was about as wide as a double decker bus, and as tall. The walls were lined with scaly grime and filth, coating the brittle metal. Cracks skittered up and down and left and right across the wall. Alex feared he might break a section if were to so much as even brush against the side just the slightest. He shivered, the wracking cold now getting to him. They had been gliding effortlessly through murky water for nearly ten minutes now. Surely they had reached the breach?

Blue trailed behind Alex, and ahead of him Wolf. Ben stayed at the back of the pack, and the hairs on the back of Alex's neck stood on end, the instinctual feeling that he was being watched. He almost regretted being so blunt with him before, but the man was clingy. He was evoking emotions in Alex that the teen didn't want right now. He couldn't deal with the pressure of his friends' and families' lives on the line. As harsh as it sounded in his head, Alex couldn't afford distractions; data first, Omega second, hostages last.

They swam through a broken in portion of the pipe, where the water had just become too much and tore through the eroded and weakened metal. This was where most of the water had poured in, and it looked like there was even new debris littering the bed of the Thames. Alex recognised it instantly and even stopped for a moment, idly kicking with huge flippers as he gazed out across the poorly lit, watery expanse.

There, half shrouded in wreckage and dirt was the London Eye, still embedded at the bottom of the river. It served as a startling reminder to Alex how close he had come back then to death; how close Ella had come. It was why he was going to leave. He could still save some people. Tom, Ben, K- Unit; there was still some hope left so that he could redeem himself. Shafts of moonlight swung across the riverbed, but Ben ignored them and Alex as he swam past silently,

"_Keep up Agent Rider," _His voice cut into the teen's head disrupting his trance. Alex shook himself out of his reverie. He kicked out, heading off back into the dark to catch up with the rest of his comrades. He hated being called Agent Rider.

They all had narrow beams of light attached to their shoulders. Oxygen tanks weighed down on their backs and they had several pouches with gear strapped to all parts of their body. Up ahead, however, the three of them had stopped, their light casting haunted illumination across a section of the pipe.

As Alex neared, he caught sight of the giant metal grille that stood in their way. Millions of bars crosshatched across their path, blocking all entrance. They had come so far, only to be stopped at the last hurdle. Alex swore in his head,

"_What now?" _he asked into the microphone. They hadn't brought any gear for something like this. Of all the hazards, this should have been the easiest to predict.

"_Allow me," _Garfield swam up close to the middle of the grille, and took out something from a side pocket. Alex couldn't see what it was, and the poor light made it impossible to even see what he was doing. Even Wolf and Ben weren't impressed,

"_Pup, what are you playing at?"_ Wolf hissed, _"We don't have the time! We need to abort now!"_

"_Just give me a minute!"_ Garfield shot back, dropping whatever was in his hands into the mud below and yanking at the grille. His fingers curled around the mesh, and he tore away a human-sized circle free from the main body. He tossed it aside, casting it off as it sunk to the floor below slowly like a feather in space. _"Impressive, aren't I?"_ He gestured with sluggish movements, beckoning them inside. Wolf just scoffed,

"_Well, maybe now, but don't you dare try that again any time soon." _He glided through, swimming effortlessly through the newly made hole. Alex shrugged and followed through, with Ben coming up the rear. Blue went in as well, and they came to the breach point.

The four of them encircled the hatch, Ben looking at the atomic watch strapped to his wrist. Wolf and Alex were preparing the explosives, readying the charges and detonators.

"_We've got four minutes. Hurry it up."_

Alex glued Smithers pipe bombs to the underside of the hatch. They were directly underneath the docking area. This blast would be small, and they had to time it perfectly with the other team's entrance for the explosion to go completely unnoticed.

"_Clear the area."_

They all scattered, drifting off to a safe distance.

"_One minute to go. Ready the detonator."_

The time ticked down slowly. Alex waited in the shadows, the cold numbing his limbs. One minute. One minute to hell.

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In his small booth, a man sat idly watching CCTV footage of the nearby streets and alleys. He was fat, verging on full blown obesity; unfit for the guard job he'd been assigned. But Omega was Omega; any operative had to pull their weight. He'd been one of their top accountants before he'd screwed up their German off-shore accounts. Now he was degraded to menial labour, watching out for assailants that were never going to come. He wasn't even near the headquarter site! He was miles away from the transmitter! Why did he need to senselessly protect the random backstreets of London from imaginary enemies?

He snorted, wrapping himself up in his coat. It had gone surprisingly chilly over the past few hours, and clouds were gathering overhead. He couldn't care less, even as the few first drops of rain began to tipple down. His hat hung over his eyes, blanketing him in darkness.

Then, suddenly, a clatter of metal rattled down from somewhere nearby. He jumped awake, franticly scanning the consoles in front of him for signs of activity. None were to be found. Silence reigned once more.

He glanced around nervously, fearfully watching the dark for movement.

There was another clash of dustbins toppling over; he spun around, seeking the source of the noise.

"Hello?" he called out, "Who's there?" He got no response, and was about to turn around when he saw a figure emerge from the shadows. His hand instantly raced to his holster, but he never got there. A bullet had lodged itself in his forehead before he even had chance to clasp the trigger and pull.

"Trapped," Joy called from where she was standing, "I am trapped in a war that I don't want. But here comes liberation, and revolution." She glanced down the black road, waiting as she listened carefully for the screaming phantom, and barely saw it as it tore past her and further down the road towards the warehouse.

"Tonight it begins."

Tom sat in the back, whilst in the front Snake steered and Eagle loaded his rifle. They were kitted out, and were ready for whatever stood in their way. Tom kept his eye on the time on the dashboard,

"One minute to go," he urged, "We need to hurry up!"

Snake just growled, fist slamming into the steering wheel,

"Don't you think I know that?" he snarled. Eagle glanced back at Tom, shrugging as though it were perfectly normal for Snake to be like this. Tom shuddered, pressing himself into the seat as the car revved some more.

The warehouse gates came up awfully fast, but they simply rammed through them, the phantom barely receiving any damage. As soon as they were through, the clock ticked down one minute, seamlessly on time.

Eagle leant out the open window, taking careful aim and firing at anyone he saw. The blockade lit up into flames, and the attack had begun. The engine roared out into the night, signalling a night of chaos. Tom gulped.

This would be his first war.

**And so I finish there. Another short chapter, but I'm stealing myself for a grand finale.**

**That… and the mounting pile of homework I have awaiting me ^_^;**

**So, tried to make it dark and brooding, hope I succeeded. **

**Also, might I suggest reading my other story that is currently underway called Next of Kin. It's on my profile if you'd care to read. I'd love for more reviews. :D**

**Maybe 7 reviews were a bit harsh? Let's try 6 again and see where that takes us :D**

**I do hope you'll join me for the last chapters, I promise you they will be as epic as I can make them. Reviews are very much appreciated!**

**Thanks – K9**


	28. Battle

**Merry Christmas! (if I don't upload before the 25****th**** that is)**

**I was thinking, since I can't physically give you all a present, I decided to cut you some slack and once I have finished the next two chapters, the final two chapters, I will upload them together so you don't have to wait around reading. How's that sound?**

**Also, I apologise for it being so late; I had stuff pled on top of stuff with an apex of yet more stuff.**

**Anyhow, in response to reviews:**

**2whitie: Ben and Alex get a reprieve! I'll let you read. Not so much a grand finale rather just a 'finale'. Still, I'd like to think it was epic. Thanks for reviewing and reading!**

**Spaphire2309: No need to apologise. Thanks for reviewing! **

**Jellie Smiff: Thanks :D and thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm not **_**that**_** amazing.**

**Lightning and Blossoms: No, no, no, Smithers is not Omega. Jones is, Crawley is, but NEVER SMITHERS! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**ReillyScarecrowRocks: Thanks for reviewing and reading! I understand the essay thing. Such a drag D: Anyhow, I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and hope you read more. We have sacrifices and horrors awaiting you :D**

**Ginaheartscupcakes: Wow… thanks! It is reviews like these every once in a while that really makes my day! Indeed, the odd spelling error, but I'll go over the story once it's finished and correct those, so no worries! **

**Warning: Sections marked between + TRC + are not for the faint hearted. Readers discretion is advised, or some malarkey (love that word). Please do not complain or anything if you do not like what you read in this section. You have been warned.**

**This chapter contains strong language and minor gore. **

**Chapter 28: Battle**

The blast tore through the water, a silhouetted cloud of orange and red that rippled in a bubble out into the murky dark. Alex felt the heat radiate against his oxygen mask, the goggles hit with the flames. They were too close; the pipe wasn't giving them enough space. They would have to put their faith in the wetsuits.

Alex went first into the mouth of danger. He kicked out, tearing away the oxygen tank strapped to his back, feeling the metal burning against his back. The burning water swirled around him as he propelled forwards. The suits were working; Smithers had done well, utterly fireproof. He clenched his eyes shut, wincing as the intense light glared at him. How many metres was it to the hatch? He couldn't remember, and could only hope not to swim headlong straight into the metal ceiling. But then the worst happened. He _did_ swim head first into the ceiling. He was going at such a speed the brute force of slamming so hard dazed him, dizzying his senses. Above all that, the visor of his goggles cracked, just the tiniest of slithers that began seeping black water. Swearing, he blindly looked about in the dissipating light. His torch had gone as well. There was no one else left to go through the breach. He was going to be alone in the dark without vision. Time was of the essence.

He backed up slightly, seeing where the breach could possibly be. The settling mud and collapsing debris made it near-impossible to see. Alex was at a loss. He had to find a way out of the pipe now. He swam along the ceiling, hands feeling out blindly for a gap as his lungs burnt for oxygen. His goggles were half full now (he had to keep optimistic), there was still a chance. Then once more the worst happened; his goggles cracked completely. The thick visor gave in, a huge splinter running from the top left to the bottom right. Water swept in, catching Alex off-guard. Bubbles danced from his mouth as he gasped, letting n vile water. His eyes stung from the filth, his chest ached from the pressure. The last of the light faded, and he was left floating and choking in the dark, the last of his air gone too.

Just then, a rough hand yanked at his wetsuit's harness, hauling him upwards. He broke through the surface, gasping and spluttering for breath, tearing off the ruined goggles.

"What are you playing at?" Alex's saviour hissed, "Now's not the time to fool around. Get it together!"

"I'm sorry…" Alex coughed, lamely coming up with an excuse, "I just didn't watch where I was going…"

"Yeah well watch it next time." Alex glanced up, finally looking at whoever had pulled him out the water. It was Ben, not even giving him any attention as he loaded up his rifle. Wolf and Blue had already done the same and were slinking off into the darkness. "Hurry up damn-it!"

Alex clumsily got to his feet, stripping away the useless gear and arming himself.

"We're losing time here!" Ben whispered again.

"Alright!" Alex snapped testily, "I know, I know!" Ben just rolled his eyes, and Alex felt he could throttle the man right then and there. Why was he being so obstinate? Alex had far too much on his plate right now. He most certainly did not need this.

Loading an ammo clip into his hand gun, screwed on the obtusely large suppressor and cocking the safety. With his gun now ready, Alex pulled out the night-vision goggles he had tucked under his belt, securing them to his face. Ben was tapping his foot impatiently; waiting for Alex to prepare himself whilst he stole glances and peeks up and down the corridor they found themselves in. Water was pooling around their feet, cracks snaking along the floorboards. The building was losing integrity, and losing it fast. Who knows how much time they had?

"Alex…" Ben growled through gritted teeth. Alex just huffed,

"I'm ready!" he hissed back, "Happy now?"

"Considerably."

The two ventured out into the shadows, smoke and dust swirling about in the half-light. They paced forward, low to the ground weapons raised and at the ready. Through the goggles, Alex could see the errant lines of black and green, lit only by the faintest glimmer of white from Ben. Ahead of him he could see two outlines, crouched low like they were, both armed as well.

"_Operatives are retreating already."_ Alex heard Wolf's voice murmur over the connection they had. _"The Phantom team is silent. We'll be all fucked to high heaven if they've already twigged on."_

"We proceed as planned. We don't have a choice," Ben stated bluntly, taking charge, "How many do you think?"

"_At least a good dozen from what I can see, but Smithers says that he's detecting mass numbers falling back to the main storage unit. Phantom team have been met with heavy resistance apparently. God knows how many more there are in here." _Blue explained, fear melting his voice to a quiet whisper, _"Shit… At this rate, they may already to seventy-five or eighty per cent done with the decryption. We've only got minutes left."_

"Then move forwards. We keep going." Alex sighed, "Like Ben said, we don't have a choice."

Then silence resumed, and Ben and Alex pressed forward, keeping to the shadows. Alex's breathing was kept to a minimum, he held his breath in for as long as he could and then out in a hushed wheeze. Ben was only a few steps behind him, watching earnestly over his shoulder as they crept along the derelict corridor.

Alex's foot pressed down on a floorboard, and it creaked loudly. He winced, keeping his foot perfectly still. Ben snorted, sneaking his way past Alex. The teen rolled his eyes, lifting his foot up gently and replacing it elsewhere. He put his foot down again, but this time the entire floor shook and groaned. Ben stood stock still, listening as intently as Alex was. He could feel the blood pumping to his head as the vibrations ricocheted through the corridor. Behind him, the boards split apart, the nails jostling and threatening to come loose. Black, glistening water bled through the slats, seeping and sloshing as the corridor jarred down. Alex stumbled a little backwards, caught by the sudden jolt. More of the floor gave way from under his feet, and muddy water lapped at his ankles. He kept falling back, but a hand shot out and steadied him, pulling him forwards. Alex grasped at it, righting himself before he fell further into the icy depths.

"Thanks," he muttered to Ben sheepishly. Damn him and his awkwardness!

"Don't mention it," he mumbled back, but shuffled uncomfortably, "We should be moving now. The corridor's breaking apart. We need to move now!"

They started sprinting, the fissures hurtling after them. The walls began crumbling, creasing and cracking as the hall fell around them. Their light footsteps slammed down hard against the buckling floorboards, each thud earning another wrenching quake. Alex heaved air in and out of his exhausted lungs, threatening to teeter over the edge into unconsciousness. In and out; he furiously hacked up the spent oxygen, running at a blinding pace down the corridor. In his ear he could hear the chatter of many voices, overlaying into one cacophonous roar, coupled with the collapsing corridor. Ben was speeding ahead, Alex left trailing behind. Shaking his head, he increased his gusto, pounding is legs harder than he dared imagine as he felt flat surface began to tilt and slip. It should have only been a small breach! Why was the entire place falling down?

"_Left left!" _Ben shouted over the intercom, his words garbled and rushed. He was too far ahead for Alex to hear him normally talking. Other stray messages coursed over the signal,

"_Too many…"_

"…_way; left or right?"_

"_Can't keep this up…"_

"…_find them before…"_

Alex cursed himself. It was turning into a shambles. There was no coordination, no control. They were losing the advantage of surprise. He himself had already run into a snag with the failed breach, and now the Phantom was getting pummelled underneath operative fire? What hope did they have?

"ALEX!"

The sudden bellow caught him off guard; Alex skidded to stop himself. Once again, Ben's hand whipped out and grabbed his chest, catching the teen before he ran straight through a door and into an ever-increasing pool of water. The warehouse was sinking. They were standing on some kind of railing, a bridge that ran along the inside perimeter of the building. The safety rail had been destroyed, warped and bent so that he provided no safety at all. Had Alex kept on running he would have fallen into the pool, and then who knows what might have happened. Once again, Alex muttered his thanks, and straightened himself up. The chatter in his ear was louder now, making him wince and grimace every time the noise became unbearable. Ben motioned for him which way to go now. They had to get to the centre of the warehouse, and then there should be the main command centre somewhere thereabouts. Easy. Nothing to worry about…

So why was Alex's gut telling him to run?

"_I don't get it… We should be there by now."_

"What's wrong Blue?" Alex asked into his microphone, addressing the MI5 teen.

"_According to the plans, we should be near the command module by now. But all I can see are shipping containers and random heavy duty transport. No headquarters at all."_

"Couldn't you have made a wrong turn somewhere? Maybe Wolf read the map wrong. He's used to doing that." It was Ben now, taking charge once more over Alex. The teen scowled in displeasure, but kept quiet. He was still smarting over being saved so many times by the same man…

"_Impossible. _I've _been reading the map and such. Wolf's checked it over. We should be there by now."_

"Sit tight; we're on our way."

Ben lead off, taking tentative steps along the walkway. Water was already swirling around underneath, rising with each passing second. Alex didn't want a repeat of the accident in the corridor. He followed, copying the same steps with careful precision.

In his came a low droning sound, and Wolf and blue were suddenly cut off. He couldn't hear anyone else's voices either; Omega must be blocking their signals. It was another advantage they had just lost.

They passed familiar looking shelves. Units piled high with random computer junk and hardware. Alex remembered when he had been first brought here via the underground. He could remember being held at gunpoint. He remembered how close to he'd come with the Devil himself. He remembered how repulsed he had felt. But now it felt strangely like déjà vu.

They came to a clearing, where the shelves were shoved to the sides and containers carried on as far as the eye could see. They raised high into the rafters, lined back row by row. Here, in the opening, were several forklifts and bizarre buggies. Alex and Ben huddled in the shadows, scanning for their comrades.

Alex saw them first, crowded behind some spare crates in the centre of the clearing. It was glaringly obvious, but Alex couldn't see where else they could have been. Anywhere else and it would have been _too _obvious. It almost seemed too straightforward with it being the _only_ hiding place. Then there was the lack of direction, and then that this was supposed to be the nerve centre. Alex gulped, realising their fatal mistake just as he had already crossed halfway into the clearing.

Floodlights came on from all angles, lighting the place up with bright illuminations. Wolf and Garfield were covered in the harsh light, easily noticeable now. Ben growled, but he came to Alex's side, knowing full well they'd been captured.

Above them came clapping, slow and mocking. All four of them looked up, now spaced out together in the clearing. Operatives came swarming in from around the sides, from the way Alex and Ben had come and from behind the forklifts and such. Had they been hiding there all that time? The ambush was so easy to spot, yet all of them had failed to do so. It was embarrassing to call themselves Britain's last line of defence. The four of them followed the sound upwards, to the gangway about one storey up.

"Well, well, well gentlemen," Mrs Jones cooed, "That was rather dire, wouldn't you say?"

They didn't reply, to which she just cackled,

"I was expecting more of a fight than _this_!" She swept with one arm over them, dramatically creating the scene. She was dressed in the usual bland suit, her hair neat and bowl-shaped. It was as if she had stepped straight from the bank and to here. Alex shuddered, frantically sorting through options in his head as to a means of escape.

"You disappoint me," she continued, "Only _two_ points of entry? Surely you'd have been better prepared than _this_?" She kept referring to them as 'this', something which was grinding on Blue's nerves. "Such child's plays, such disrespect to good foes! Who do you think we are? _Scorpia_?" She laughed again, "And yet all you could muster was _this_?" Blue finally snapped,

"You won't get away with anything, you incompetent old hag! For Queen and country!"

"Silence boy!" The sharp command cut across the clearing. Blue instantly retreated back into his shell, cowering slightly behind Wolf. They all didn't know it, but he had heard that voice before, that condescending tone. It was _His_ voice. That was impossible. It couldn't have been Him.

Mr Riddle stepped from the dark, sneering at Garfield. The teen was only confused even more. He didn't understand. The former head master stood there, dressed in the boring, stick thin grey suit he always wore, with his dull face and mottled hands. Alex had very nearly forgotten about him. He knew he was Omega, but why on Earth was he here _now_?

"It's been a while since you've heard from me, hasn't it boy?" Mr Riddle leered; using a voice was completely unlike his own. This voice was different, less scratchy and olden. Instead it was powerful, deep and terrifying. Alex was a little perturbed, but not frightened. He simply couldn't understand why Garfield was acting so timid. "Speak up boy!" Mr Riddle yelled, "Answer me!"

"…yes…" Blue squeaked, out of character and actually shaking on the spot; Ben and Wolf shared bewildered looks, and Alex just examined both Mr Riddle and Blue calmly, assessing what the hell could possibly connect them in such a way that made Blue afraid of his voice. Above them, Mrs Jones chortled,

"I think you should show them darling; put them all out of their misery!" she screeched, clutching the railing and rocking backwards and forwards like a schoolgirl on a swing. She was getting so much delight out of this; Alex made a note not to react so as to not give her the satisfaction she so desperately wanted.

"As you wish, my sweet." Mr Riddle reached up to his neck, peeling away the mask. Alex sighed; typical Omega. It wad growing tiresome how people were not who they seemed. Was there really a Mr Riddle at all, or was that just some guise for another man.

Then something in Alex's head pieced together the last parts. The affectionate name calling, the absurd name of Mr Edgar Riddle – Mr _E_ Riddle – and Mrs Jones's kiss with Mr E… surely it couldn't be.

There, lo and behold, stood Mr E, mask in hand. The mottled hands were crafted by clever make-up, the mask formed by an expert in facial replication. It was rather ingenious, but Alex would have dared tell them that. They were a nuisance enough as it is.

"_You_…" was all Garfield whispered, utterly petrified and scared. He was now huddled behind Wolf, who had an unconscious arm wrapped protectively around him.

"Who are you?" he called out, keeping his voice level and stern. Alex could tell he wanted to throttle Mr E right then and there, despite not even knowing why. He'd have to look at Wolf's and Blue's forming relationship later, for now he would have to focus on the more pressing matters,

"His name is Mr E," Alex supplied helpfully, "Or so he says. He's one of the Omega directors… I think."

"Very good Alex," Mr E snarled, "But I do believe he wasn't asking _you_." He snapped his head round to Garfield, "Perhaps your little coward and glorified traitor could spread some light as to who I am?" Garfield refused to, shrouded behind Wolf. "ANSWER ME BOY!"

"You are the lord and master!" Blue cried, "My merciful and ever-gracious Sir!"

"You leave him alone!" Wolf roared, raising his rifle and pointing the muzzle at Mr E, "Leave him alone or I put a bullet through your head!" Mr E gasped in exasperation,

"Oh, how cliché… You military thugs have no style or finesse these days. If you shout me, I'll have the order for dear Terence and William Daniels to be shot dead as well." He smiled gleeful as Ben turned blood red,

"Don't you dare…" he ground out lowly, "Don't you even dare think about it…"

"Oh but dear Benjamin; this is your choice! Save your family, or save Alex's identity. Which do you value more?"

Ben looked to Alex, his face passive but his eyes cold and calculating. Was he seriously considering betraying them _now_? Alex was dumbfounded; of all people he had expected to turn go off with their own personal agenda Ben had been at the bottom of his list. He pled silently to Ben that he wouldn't turn now, that he wouldn't ruin all their effort and trust. Ben stared straight back into his brown eyes.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Benjamin," Mr E demanded. His foot was tapping on the ground, echoing out around them with little splashes as water trickled up through the floor. The faint groan of fatigue and wear rung out in the distant background; they were wasting time here. Shit and they were falling for it! Alex had to get them to act; they couldn't just stand around while Omega stalled them. But with Ben being abused with the chance to save his brothers and Wolf being protective of the shying Blue, he was the only one that Omega had attacked yet.

"I would gladly choose Alex over my brothers." Ben wasn't looking at Mr E, and was still looking at Alex. His eyes were no longer cold, his voice no longer harsh and terse. Instead they were bright, brighter than Alex had seen, and filled with warmth that only flickered intermittently before. His voice was softer, the deep baritone returning and evoking memories of their time together over the past weeks. Alex glanced away, determined not to show emotion. "It's what they would want, it's what I would want and I think that deep down it's what Alex wants as well, but he's too stubborn and stuck in his own moping world to realise it." Ben finally turned to Mr E, politely saying, "Get stuffed." Mr E tried his best not to look shocked, but it was obvious he hadn't been expecting so much resistance from Ben. He'd underestimated him. The wretched man turned back to Pup and Wolf,

"Well then?" he commanded, "What about you Tristan and that insolent brat of yours?"

"Oh I'm hardly insolent," Garfield piped up, coming out from behind Wolf's back. Even Alex was bemused by what was happening with the eccentric teen, "You do realise that it's been about five or four years since I last saw you? Do you really think that I was still afraid of you? Please, even I know you're far smarter than that." Mr E flushed an angry red, verging on a vivid purple. Garfield chuckled, relentlessly pressing on, "Oh dear lord, you really did, you actually really believed I was 'under your spell'?" Mr E still didn't answer. Garfield laughed heartily, "So all it took was some good acting and some cooperation from Wolf here to fool you?" He laughed some more, keeling over, "Well, thanks for the extra time, _sir_, but all you've done is given us the advantage back."

"I don't understand…" Mr E growled, "What are you going on about you brat?"

"Who me?" Garfield asked innocently, "I've just been wirelessly hacking your systems wirelessly and accessing your mainframe. In fact, right now I'm downloading the actual current plans, blocking _your_ radio telecommunications and opening ours whilst also slowing down your decryption." He smiled happily, "Oh, and I've also disabled your transmitting setup, so you're going to have to deliver that data to the media in person." He waved his small laptop around for them to see, "You really shouldn't have tried to stall."

"How dare yo-" Mr E began, but Garfield quickly cut him off,

"No, no, I think the phrase you want is 'oops – what are we going to do now to make sure our plot of world domination succeeds?'" he grinned again cheerily, "Better think of something fast. Once that data gets decrypted I could order a termination virus to go and delete it!"

Mr E screamed, lips pulled back and teeth on show like a common animal. He appeared very beast-like, and incredibly silly. Mrs Jones shouted out over his outrage,

"Enough! Darling, go tend to our guests. Make sure we get a one hundred per cent success rate with the new particles." She addressed the crowd of blank, motionless operatives, "Omega! Kill them al-"

"Sorry," Wolf cut in, rifle back at his side and hands hidden, "We can't let you do that."

"Do what?" Mrs Jones asked, befuddled.

"Kill us."

"What?" she was growing impatient, "Why?"

"Because it's not fair." Wolf was being purposefully awkward. Alex just hoped this was actually going somewhere. Mrs Jones cackled,

"Do I care if it's not fair?" she grew stern again, "I said kill the-"

"Nope, sorry, can't do that." Wolf brought his hands forward, "If we're going to go, we may as well go with out with a bang!"

He threw three lighters to the floor, and at first they did nothing. The operatives all stared at them, and then one by one started laughing into a raucous chorus. Mr E fled, turning tail and running away from the scene. Only Mrs Jones seemed to realise what was going on,

"COVER YOUR EYES!" she screeched, "ALL OF YOU! COVER YOUR EYES!"

Blue reached up to his night vision goggles, tweaking one of the settings just slightly. Ben and Wolf did the same, and Alex hastily followed suit, not wanting to be blinded by the light show. Mrs Jones had just enough time to shield her eyes from the brilliant flares of the vibrant spectrum. All the operatives flinched and coiled away from the harsh light. As they were distracted, Ben and Wolf began taking out random agents, picking them off one by one with practised ease as though they were simply shouting targets. Alex did the same with much reluctance, joining in with Blue's attack as well. Each operative collapsed to the floor, billowing flames smouldering around them. Above them Mrs Jones screamed as well, watching as her precious minions dropped like flies. Alex caught her fleeing form prancing across the walkway above them, dashing off probably to salvage what was left of her plan. They once more had the tactical advantage over Omega. All Alex had to do now was follow Jones and she would lead him straight to the stolen database.

"_We'll have to split up." _Blue's voice came loudly and clearly over the intercom, _"Jones has cut me off from the main decryption terminal, so I can't directly access that anymore, but I can cause her some trouble. Wolf and I are going to try and gain entrance to the command centre via the upper walkways; Rider-boy and Fox, you guys try and sneak your way in through the lower levels. Security will probable be minimal as the place is taking on water."_

"Roger that," Ben said, taking lead and heading down the aisles of shelves, "See you when this is all over."

"_What about Mr E?" _It was Wolf now, _"Where's he going?"_

"_I presume to where Ella, Mel, Terry and Will are, going by Jones's cryptic command…" _There was an ominous pause, _"Oh dear…"_

"What? What is it?" Alex ordered, "What's wrong?"

"_Ben, I'm very sorry, but I think Mr E might try and torture your brothers…"_

Ben didn't say anything. He just suddenly stopped on the spot, rigid and unmoving.

"Why?" he asked after a while.

"_Well, if I remember Mr E, and assuming he hasn't changed his take on things over the past few years, he won't be happy about being stood up not only by me but you as well. He hates losing, and is only interested in the results; _his _results. If they don't comply with his order of things then he gets pissed, and oh boy is he pissed now… Since he won't be able to get back at me or Wolf, and considering that Alex is already being made more of the victim here than anybody else, I bet he's going to try and hurt your brothers, ergo hurting you." _There was another worrying pause, _"The only solution I can offer is that we get Snake to go and find the hostages before Mr E. But even then it's only a slight chance he can rescue them in time. Mr E will be far closer to the medical wing than Snake, Lion or Tom will be… but if it's any consolation, it's worth a try considering we've gained the upper hand."_

Ben didn't say anything at first, taking in the information slowly. Not even Wolf said anything. It was too tense a moment. Slowly, Ben turned to Alex,

"What do you want to do?" he asked, posing the impossible question, "What do you want to do Alex?"

Alex shuffled uncomfortably. His head told him no and his heart told him otherwise; he couldn't decide. But Ben's broken eyes bore into him, and the decision became far easier,

"Do it; send Snake and Tom to save the hostages, they've got more to lose if they don't and will so work harder. Get Lion to pull up the rear with the Phantom."

**+ TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC +**

Mr E stormed down corridor after corridor, barging his way past scrambling operatives who ran about like headless chickens. He was _not_ pleased. He was pissed; extremely pissed. But he knew exactly how to remedy that. He turned a corner, heading directly for their makeshift medical bay. He had the two perfect hostages that he was free to experiment on so long as he got the results. William and Terence Daniels would make fine guinea-pigs for the new Incendiary Particle.

His feet sloshed about as more water pour in from all sides. Cracks were forming along the walls. Half of the warehouse – the half that was suspended over the water – was sinking slowly into the Thames. Originally, that had been planned as part of the ploy, to bury the evidence underneath mud and filth once they were finished, to sink the warehouse so no one would find it. But obviously now that plan too had been blown out of the water so to speak, perhaps quite literally…

He came to a set of swinging double doors, ramming them open as they came into his path. They rattled about dangerously on their hinges, but swung back shut swiftly nonetheless. He was back home, back in his favourite place where he loved to be most; the laboratory. Sterile white greeted him as he tiptoed about in glee, the artificial lights that hung overhead flickering on and off with each quake. Puddles of muddy water marked his path as his feet dripped all across the once clean floor. In the distance, over the hum of still running machinery and equipment, came the sound of gunfire and infernos. Most of the doctors and scientists had already fled, the cowards. Only he remained; him and the specimens.

Tapping at a few keys on a nearby console, the glass container in the centre of the room began to break apart, glass panes peeling away and then lifted high up into the air where dust and dirt sprinkled down as the building shook. The whir of engines and motors filled the air, and the smell of burning petrol wafted down from unseen exhausts.

There, encased with grotesque and evil harnesses were their four captives, one teenage girl and two male adults. Hardly the best spread for collecting data, but Mr E didn't care at this point. All he wanted was revenge for having his pride and authority so casually mocked in front of his peers and lover.

He roared, enraged at the brief memory of indignation. Throwing his arms across one of the cold, metal worktops, instruments and surgical implements crashed to the floor with a deafening clatter. The four specimens were shivering uncontrollably, both wary and fearful of him. That was how it should be; he should be the alpha, the lord and, master. Not some old petulant man without any respect. How dare Viking undermine him! How dare Benjamin Daniels humiliate him! But how could he get back? How could he destroy Benjamin indirectly now that he was away from the frontline?

His eyes fell upon a small scalpel, glinting in the flashing light. This was almost too perfect. All he needed were results. As for everything else, they were his toys to play with. A sinister smile crept upon his thin lips. A happy coincidence.

"Who shall I torture first?" Mr E said aloud, stooping down and delicately picking up with sharp knife, "Dear Terence, or dear William?"

He sauntered his way over to them, ignoring the heaped mess of medical equipment.

"It would seem your lovely brother Benjamin would rather have _you_ killed than his precious little Alex." He leant in close to Terry, "Now that's not very nice, is it?" He brought the scalpel up into his line of vision, trailer with the tiny pointed tip across the captive's jaw line, "Shame I'm going to have to cut you into pieces to get that across." He took a step back, pulling a lever which raised Terry's left leg up into the air. He screamed around the gag, suddenly full of energy from the sheer will of trying to avoid the inevitable pain. It was futile, yet still he tried, tears streaking down from his eyes as the scalpel was brought ever so close to his shin, up near to the knee. "Let's see how long this Incendiary Particle lasts before your suffering activates it." Mr E smiled, and ever so painfully slowly brought the scalpel up, held like one would be stabbing a knife. He kept it in the air for moment or too, before slamming it down into the flesh.

**+ TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC +**

"They're pulling back. Have we received word yet from Breach team?"

It was Eagle, still rapidly firing away at the lines of Omega agents. Tom scrabbled for the headset, swiftly putting it on in haste.

"Err…" he began, tapping with the touchscreen interface, "Come in Alex?" He was welcomed by static, and no reply. He tried again, "Alex? Garfield? Are you there?"

"Tom?" Snake said impatiently. The teen turned in acknowledgment,

"Yes Snake?"

"That's the radio…" The medic began firing again, picking off another operative running along the roof. Bullets ricocheted and rattled off the hull of the car, and Tom was thankful he was safe in the back, not exposed to any stray fire. He averted his gaze every time an operative went up in smoke, collapsing to the floor in a burning mess. At least he made Eagle's and Snake's job more convenient, taking and delivering messages. Still, he wanted to do more, but for now this would suffice.

"Ah," he changed the programme, bringing up the correct intercom system, "Come in Breach team, are you there?"

"_Tom!" _came the sharp response from Blue, _"Get off comms and get your ass moving to the medic bay. We've gained the upper hand, repeat; we've gained the upper hand. Once Lion comes in with the Rapide, he is to go with Eagle to round off the operatives for us. You and Snake are to head off and find the hostages. Make sure everyone comes back alive."_

Then he was gone, as quick as that. Tom ripped the headset off, eager to deliver the news,

"When Lion arrives, he and Eagle are to go meet with the Breach team. Snake and I are to go find Mel and the others."

"Gladly," snapped Snake, "But I'd first like to know where the bloody man is!"

As if on cue, the car suddenly came crashing through the already broken front gates. Skidding on the loose gravel, it swerved around the Phantom that Tom, Eagle and Snake were in, in a wide arc. It's tail rammed into several petrol canisters, and a few operatives, resulting in a large explosion that clawed through the air. Then, even more suddenly, weapon fire tore into the air, the warehouse brutally taking a pounding from the Gatling gun attached to the roof of the Rapide. Tom watched mesmerised as the impossibly huge machine gun spiralled and spun, sending powerful bullets stretching across the compound. The brickwork was being shattered and splintered, sending debris everywhere. The weapon itself was mounted on some kind of automatic rotating pivot, and it swept around picking off any remaining operatives still left out in the open. The sound of weapon fire grew fainter and fainter until all that could be heard was the whirring of the revolutions the Gatling gun made.

The driver door opened as the machine gun slowed to a halt, and the engine ticked over. Lion stepped out, a smug grin plastered across his face.

"You were supposed to be here five minutes ago!" Snake immediately scolded, slugging his rifle over his shoulder, "Where the hell were you?"

"Picking up a passenger," Lion replied, the grin not faltering. From the other side of the Aston Martin, another man stepped out of the passenger seat. Someone had been riding shotgun.

"You… What are you…?" Eagle stammered, trying to find the right words. Even Snake was shocked. Tom didn't understand.

"Arnold Cartman, at your service," Mr Cartman said, elaborately bowing for the adults. He was dressed in the same combat gear as Snake, Eagle and Lion, clad with his own rifle and other gadgets. "Or you may also commonly know me as Heron."

"Heron?" Tom asked, clambering out from the back seat and finally out into the open air, "You've got an animal name too?"

"He used to be in J-Unit…" Eagle said, bewildered and astounded, "he used to be in the SAS before he was upgraded. You got shot or something…"

"Yes, in many places I wouldn't like to digress," he coughed awkwardly, "Are we just going to stand around here gossiping like teenagers – no offense – or are we going to get a move on?"

"Yes, but first," Snake said, coldly, "Why are you helping us?"

"Um, hello?" Cartman said as though it were plainly obvious, "If I don't help and you lose, the whole government crumbles. Besides, without a desk to sit at I'm working off-the-clock on overtime. Would you rather me I get paid sitting at home with my feet up sipping at a cup of hot chocolate?" Nobody answered him, the rhetorical question speaking for itself. "No, I didn't think so. Snake, Tom; you two get moving. I don't know whether Agent Viking mentioned this, but the hostages could be in trouble. Eagle, Lion; stop staring into each other's eyes and get moving, we've got a schedule to keep." The two soldier blushed slightly, shaking themselves from their brief contact and began rearming and reloading their rifles. Snake however was still keen on getting answers,

"What do you mean the hostages could be in trouble?" he whipped around to Tom, "You didn't mention anything about trouble…" Tom shrugged, completely out of the 'know'. Cartman sighed,

"You didn't get the message?" he huffed, "Basically, one of the Omega directors is heading to the hostages, and he's pissed. You need to get moving if you're to have a chance of saving anybody, let alone all of them." He raised his rifle, "Now get to it!"

Snake dashed off without another word, a pained yet enraged expression on his face. Tom grabbed the holster from the back seat of the Phantom and sprinted after him. He didn't want to see anything happen to Mel, and he dreaded to think what Snake would do if anything happened to Ella.

"Hurry up already!" Snake called back from up ahead, already flying down one corridor. Tom increased his pace. Another left, another corridor. Another right and down some steps then up some more; he was losing himself. He was no solely reliant upon Snake for direction. So long as he followed the furious medic he would be fine.

Suddenly, he ran headlong into his back, making the pair of them tumble over.

"Watch where you're going!" Tom cried indignantly. But he was too late to realise that a small group of Omega operatives were the reason why Snake had stopped. They were blocking the path to the medical wing. And the clatter Tom had caused had made the operatives notice them lying on the cold floor. For a while, neither party did nothing, but then, as if in slow motion, they began reaching for the weapons slung around their shoulders. Snake reacted on instinct, bringing his rifle about faster and opening fire upon them. He shoved Tom out of the way, down an adjoining corridor.

"Run!" Snake bellowed, "Go and find Ella! Make sure she and the others are safe!"

Tom didn't need any further encouragement; he picked himself up and ran off. He had to save them. Snake, if not everyone was counting on him. It was only a few yards down the corridor when the gunfire began to fade. Soon, Tom was enveloped in silence. He didn't know which way to go. He was lost.

He cursed himself, stamping his foot in a puddle that was collecting around his feet. He didn't have time. Taking the Desert Eagle from its holster, he cocked it with shaking hands. He'd never really held a gun before – only paintballing, and even then the experience of holding a real weapon with live ammunition in his hands was surreal. He took a deep, drawn-out breath, and crept down the long winding hall he found himself in.

A few more yards, and soon the sound of muffled screams carried out over the air. Tom gulped, his knees growing weak and blood running cold. His head went faint. He was too late. Unknowingly, his feet began to move, pounding away at the ground beneath them. He was running; running towards the sound. The scream was male, and for a single, selfish moment Tom let out a sigh of relief before redoubling his efforts, realising Mel and Ella could already be dead.

He came to a jogging halt, just outside a set of double doors. A trail of dried blood led to the doors and beyond, and the groaning, crying noise came from beyond just that too. It was now or never. Tom realised he may actually have to kill someone, but he breathed slowly and calmly, raising the gun as though he were just in a regular firing range, or out in some random forest shouting globs of paint at other kids. But he couldn't fool himself. This was real, and inside the room was some man or woman inflicting pain on his friends. Whoever was inside this room was a murderer; a killer; an evil person that needed to be stopped. With new resolve and hand on the door, he gently pushed it open, keeping the pistol level and raised.

He snuck inside, careful not to let the door swing abruptly shut. The scene he was met with was gruesome, horrific and revolting. In the middle of the room hung Mel and Will, suspended in garish harnesses, but covered by some man was Terry, the one doing the screaming. Blood was running down to the floor in red waterfalls, and Tom very nearly backed away, gagging on vomit. But he remained calm – as calm as he could be and pointed the gun at the random man's head.

"Stop!" he commanded with a wary voice. Immediately, Mr E stopped what he was doing, whirling around with a rusted saw in hand, with blood pouring down its teeth. His shirt and suit were ruined, stained by Terry's blood, but what Tom saw next made him stumble backwards slightly.

It was Terry's leg…

Or lack thereof.

He coughed up bile, betraying his instincts and looking away. Mr E seized his moment, swinging with the dripping saw at Tom. The teen ducked out of the way, batting the violent man away with the butt of the Eagle.

Mr E tried to block the attack, but he was at the wrong angle and his momentum was carrying him forward. He staggered forwards, saw nearly falling out of his grip as he was slammed hard in the back of the head with the pistol. His vision grew threateningly dark, but somehow he held on to consciousness.

Tom, thinking he had successfully dealt with the threat without resorting to killing him, made his way over to Terry, staring at the bloody knee and stump of shin and foot on the floor. It made him both sick and sad to see them all in such sorry states, and he really felt for Terry. The man could die, not just from shock but from blood loss as well, and even if he did survive Tom doubted he'd be able to get the leg reattached. But what could he do? How could Tom help him? He was out of his depth…

Mr E suddenly lunged up from behind Tom, saw in one hand and a stray scalpel in another. He stabbed the scalpel into Tom's bicep. The teen shouted out in pain, grasping at his arm and ripping out the offending implement. But Mr E was upon him in a flash, snatching for the pistol. Tom yanked the weapon out of his reach, and flailed out with a foot, trying to find the man's groin. The saw was almost near his shoulder, and the teen kicked out again, hitting him in the side of the stomach. Mr E gasped for breath, the saw falling out of his hands. They collapsed forwards together in a writhing heap, fighting for the upper hand. They rolled about in the pool of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into Tom's and Mr E's clothing. Tom felt repulsed by it, but kept on fighting, trying to stay alive. He had no other choice. With a quick movement that surprised even Mr E, Tom brought the Desert Eagle in between them both and fired once into Mr E's chest. He suddenly went limp, choking for air as the damage did its work. Blood gargled from his mouth, and the man tried to form one futile last sentence before the light went out in his eyes. He slumped lifelessly on top of Tom, blood spilling down across the teen's chest. With teary eyes and shaking hands, Tom roughly shoved Mr E's dead body off of him, rolling him to the side. He had just killed a man, albeit in self-defence, but still a killing. He wasn't a soldier or a spy; would he be charged for this?

From above him, Terry whined, bringing Tom back to awareness of the situation. He looked bad; very bad. His skin was pale and clammy and there was far too much blood. But Tom didn't know what to do. He didn't know anything. He was some useless kid with useless grades with no future; how could he save someone's life.

Press the wound; keep pressure on the wound to stem the blood flow. That was basic, wasn't it? Bandages, he needed bandages. Scanning around frantically, Tom searched for any form of cloth or gauze. There wasn't anything to hand. Doing the best he could, he took off his already soaked tee shirt and pressed it up against Terry's remanding leg. He moaned in agony, and Tom cast him an apologetic, if not queasy smile. It was doing now good. The blood just went right through his shirt. He needed help.

"Snake!" he called feebly. "SNAKE!" he repeated with more vigour. "HELP ME!"

Nobody came. Tom stared at the double doors in the vain hope that someone would come, that someone would save both him and Terry from this horror.

"ANYBODY? HELP!" Tears of anger and frustration trickled down his face. Why was he so useless?

Just then, the double doors burst open. Tom lunged for the Eagle, which was lying just at his feet. The bloody shirt slopped to the floor, and he hastily aimed the gun at the intruder. But it was Snake. He let out a thankful, shaky breath.

"Tom?" Snake said, searching the room for perpetrators, "What's wrong?" Tom stepped aside, he suddenly snapped into focus; the dead body, the sawn off leg and the bleeding stump made everything seem just that little bit more real.

"Find me bandages, anything!" Snake shouted, taking control of the situation, "Move it now!"

Tom did as he was told as the medic raced past him, doing things he could never have done.

"There aren't any… I've checked."

Snake sighed, but said nothing as he took the small first aid pack from his side, dumping it on the floor as he began tending to Terry's fatal wound. Tom watched, amazed at how skilled and deft Snake was. He should have at least known how to do that…

"Don't just stand there!" Snake yelled, "Get the others out of them evil-looking things and get them out of here!"

Tom once more jumped into action, heading over to Will who was nearest. He felt all over the harness, searching for some kind of lock or fastenings. His fingertips came across the rusted padlock. Cursing his luck, Tom jostled it about, trying to break it free. Maybe… Maybe that man had the key. Tom's eyes wandered over to the dead body. Could he search a dead man's corpse?

Without much choice, he bent down, rifling through the wet pockets. He was losing time. Tom growled in frustration, unhappy at his current predicament. Where was the damn key?

Instead, his eyes now fell upon the Desert Eagle. The lock looked worn enough. Maybe he could blow the locks off?

With a new plan in mind, he picked up his murder weapon, and aimed it far more carefully and with much more ease than before. He pulled the trigger, the weapon recoiling perfectly in his hand. The lock blew to smithereens, coming clean off. Suddenly, the harness opened up, springing open on some kind of automatic release. Will slumped to the floor, yanking his arms from the chains and ripping off the gag around his mouth. He began promptly muttering thanks, rambling on over the same phrase over and over.

Tom did the same with Mel, who when she dropped down stood up immediately and kissed Tom, holding him tightly. He held on as well, not wanting to let go for a second. But he had to eventually, and he gently pried her away and ordered Will to get themselves outside and to safety away from the building. Snake threw them the GPS from his side pocket, and together they left through the double doors, supporting each others' weights and half-stumbling along like drunkards.

He fired the gun again at Terry's lock, and with some manoeuvring from him and Snake, they managed to get the wounded man onto the floor.

"Hold this there…" Snake ordered, pointing to the soaked bandages on the leg. "He's not going to get that leg back. I need to administer some painkillers." Tom nodded, biting back his reflex to throw up. This way he was helping people. Just seeing Snake take charge so quickly and efficiently impressed Tom. It was decided in his head; it may be too late to change, but he vowed to try and educate himself in helping others, medically or in any other form. But it was when Snake asked the question he had failed to even consider that Tom realised things were worse than they appeared,

"Where's Ella?"

TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC – TRC

Alex was running. He was tired of running, but he had no choice. Running it was. He was out of ammo, his gun dropped long ago as it was only slowing him down. Several operatives were chasing him, only metres behind. Their gunfire pinged off the sides and the shelves, rocketing around him.

He made a sudden sharp turn, trying to coordinate himself with Ben. He followed the GPS coordinates, watching as he came up to an intersection where Ben was going to meet him. Alex chucked a lighter behind him, having set the timer but he doubted it would really slow them down. He couldn't have fooled them twice.

He heard the bright explosion behind him, but he kept on running, not wanting to see if his ploy had worked. The continued gunfire suggested otherwise, and so he increased his pace, accelerating to a sprint.

He caught a glimpse of a figure in the dark. Alex checked his GPS. It was Ben!

He ran straight into the clearing, diving out of the way as Ben brought his gun around and shot the operatives chasing him. They fell back, forming a wall of fire blocking the way.

"You okay?" Ben asked, keeping his gun trained on the fire in case more operatives were heading their way.

"Yeah, 'm fine" Alex mumbled, heaving breaths of air in and out. They were running out of time. But down below him, glinting in the dark from the fire, something caught his eye. Alex knelt down, peering under the shelves and into the dust and gloom. Sure enough, there it was again, something shiny was down there. And why did it look so familiar…?

"Alex?" Ben was looking down at the teen, completely bemused and unaware of what Alex was trying to do.

"Just a sec…" Alex reached under, stretching his arm through the dirt to reach it. He felt around blindly, his hand falling into dust each time until, finally, he lighted upon the object. With a grunt, he pulled it out, wiping the grime off of it. It _did_ look familiar.

"Die traitors," Mrs Jones screeched, opening fire on them from down the aisle. It caught them both off guard, the sudden surprising appearance. Ben shoved Alex out of the way, taking most of the bullets fired to the leg and stomach. He groaned with the shot, his wetsuit only taking some of the impact. Alex shouted out, trying to stop the inevitable. Ben fell backwards, wounded. He was alive, thank god, but Alex didn't have time for this! He glanced back to where Mrs Jones was, holding a gun to the head of… of Ella.

"You bitch…" he snarled, "Let her go!"

Mrs Jones just laughed manically, dragging Ella with her as she ran off into the dark. Alex shot up to Ben, right at his side and pressing on the bullet wounds.

"Ben?" he asked warily, "Ben, can you hear me?"

"Relax, kid," Ben moaned, "It's only a flesh wound." He leant up, hissing at the pain, "Get after her. I'll be fine."

Alex looked into Ben's eyes, hoping he wouldn't realise what he was about to do. They wouldn't be fine. Alex had to make the choice; for Queen and country, or for family and friends.

"_Alex?" _Blue's voice came over the intercom, _"Jones has made off with the decrypted data. I've pulled up the identification tab for the external hard drive she's taken it on"_

"And? What am I looking for?"

"_Something small; a broach, oval and white in appearance. Yeah, she should be wearing it hopefully."_

"Thanks Blue," he paused, "Garfield?"

"_Yes Alex?" _came the reply. Alex looked down at Ben, before standing up and moving away from him.

"Find Ben and get him out of here. I'm going after Mrs Jones and Ella." He paused again, "And Garfield, if you or anyone else survives this, then I want you to know it was an honour working with you."

"_Wait, what do you mean… Alex?"_ Alex cut the line, silencing Blue before he could carry on. Ben was looking at Alex,

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," Alex said, pulling up the object. It was a remote. The remote from when Alex had first been taken to the warehouse. With a bit of luck from the devil, the explosives would still be in place. Alex pressed the button.

And the whole world blew apart.

**Woo! Dramatic finish!**

**Again…**

**Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed that :D I'll get the next two chapters finished ASAP!**

**Merry Christmas once more!**

**Also, since this story is coming to a close, I'd like your opinions on things. AND THAT IS EVERYONE WHO READS THIS! I am going to be writing an bridge story connecting this one to a potential sequel, but I am wondering whether to write said sequel with it's bridge and leave it at that or have a trilogy. What do you think I should move onto next?**

**Bridge then sequel?**

**Bridge then sequel then another bridge and another sequel (a trilogy essentially)?**

**Or make a series out of this?**

**A story involving a paternal Wolf and Alex?**

**A story involving a paternal INSERT K-UNIT MEMBER HERE and Alex?**

**Other: your suggestions?**

**Your opinions matter most to me, so please PLEASE review!**

**Also, a bit of shameless advertising: Please read and review my other story that I will be working on later called Next of Kin. You can find it on my account. **

**Thanks – K9**


	29. Finale

**Merry Late-Christmas everyone! :D**

**I've been writing this on my new netbook X3 so I tried to be speedy.**

**Sorry about Terry everyone, but this has actual context for the sequel and had always been planned from the start. My apologies if I upset anyone.**

**I will upload the final chapter pretty soon; I'm just adding the final touches to it before I can upload it. It just didn't seem fair to give you such a sudden clinching moment and then drag it out for days on end.**

**In response to reviews:**

**Dani9513: Thanks, but I doubt that, otherwise this would be more popular. Thanks for reviewing anyway :D This review made my day!**

**2whitie: Sorry about Terry, but it was always coming D: Trilogy it is. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Jellie Smiff: Aahaha, thanks :D Reviews like these mean a lot to me! I guess then that you'll be glad to know a sequel is being planned. Perhaps not pure genius per se, but still I'd like to think it was good. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy!**

**Ephemeral violet: Well then, sequel there will be. Here's your next update, and thanks for reviewing! :D**

**Lightning and Blossoms: No, not necessarily :D They were just suggestions for other stories I might venture out and write. Cliff hangers are awful yes, but I just can't help myself XD so sorry. I tried to incorporate your request of beating up Mrs Jones. Suffice to say it was incredibly easy :D Enjoy, and thanks for reviewing! (Also, trilogy it is, sorry about Terry, and here's your update).**

**GInaheartscupcakes: Again, these reviews are rewards in themselves. Thanks! As prior mentioned, the leg-thing was planned and has context for the sequel. It was specifically him and specifically the leg. The arm would have just been cruel DX Thanks for reviewing and enjoy!**

**Chapter 29: Finale**

Fire writhed and curled around Alex. His head swam with vague fogginess and ache. He remembered Ben being shot, Mrs Jones taking off with Ella and then… nothing.

He tried to sit up, rewarded with a shooting pain that ran across his chest. His legs hurt, and his sides throbbed with agony. Where was he? What had happened?

Then Alex remembered the explosion. He sat up straight, another flare of pain travelling across his chest. He'd been hit with some shelves fortunately; stray shrapnel had thankfully missed him. He couldn't see Ben. Alex looked around hectically, searching for his body. But the flames made it impossible to see, too intense and thick to see anything clearly.

"Ben?" he tried over the intercom, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

All he got was white noise. The blast must have knocked him about so much his communications link had broken. He could hear tiny parts rattling around inside it now. Useless technology; now he was without proper light and communication. Even his night vision goggles were worthless now: far too much natural light from the fires. They were impossible to use. He ripped them off, tossing them aside, uncaring of where they landed.

But what caught his attention was his GPS coordinator. He had been using it to help him track Ben and such, but now it was different. Now it was displaying some text, in a basic font light up by an artificial green glow. Alex was taken aback, but he read the text anyway, thinking what harm it could possibly do:

_Message to Alex Rider  
>Greetings Alex; we've not been properly acquainted, but all that is yet to come. Eleanor McDonald is going to die unless you can find a way to save her. I think I have just the thing you need. I've had Viking work with Smithers to upload a new modification to your GPS. How, I hear you ask? Well, all in due time my boy. For now, you had better be off to save the day. Good luck…<br>Signed Sir Aidan Brock_

What the hell? What on Earth was going on here? Why was Aidan Brock suddenly helping him? How had he managed to get Blue to help him? Alex flicked through the GPS commands, searching for this new upload. He found it. It would do perfectly. He decided that he'd get to the bottom of the mysterious modifications later, first he had to find Ella and the broach before it was too late.

He spied Ben's dropped weapons – or were they the operatives' weapons? Either way, he could use them. Only two hand guns, with barely enough ammunition left in each of their clips. Alex would have to get by on saving what little he had. Stuffing one down his belt, He primed the other and made his way in pursuit of Mrs Jones and Ella.

The whole warehouse was a mess. The roof had caved in and the inferno had reached a ginormous magnitude. Dark midnight sky was blackened evermore by the billowing smoke. Tendrils of flame licked out into the night, chewing through everything in its path. Fortunately, the rainstorm was making things far easier. As the fire coughed and spluttered to stay alight, the rain kept on pouring intermittently, churning for more and more condensed water. Acrid fumes dragged along the warehouse floor, and Alex was soon coughing himself as they gathered around him. God knows what must be happening to Ben if he was still alive… Alex would just have to hope Garfield and Wolf would take his message seriously and find him.

Wading through debris and carnage, Alex lost the trail for the third time. The fire, the rain and the flooding was making it horrendous to try and catch them. It wasn't just his identity at stake, nor his country's government, but Ella's life as well. Alex didn't doubt for a second that once the information was out Mrs Jones would kill Ella. The teenage girl was just a human shield until the deed was done. It shouldn't have been like this. Alex should still be in America, he should never have met Ella in the first place. He would never have met any of these people who were risking everything for him. Sabina's parents would still be alive, Ben's brothers wouldn't be in trouble, neither would Ella or Mel, Tom's parents would still be alive also and he would never have hurt so many people.

But it wasn't his fault. He could see that now. He could never have anticipated the sudden appearance of the Gentleman; he could never have stopped their deaths, even if he knew about the plot. He could never have prevented himself from being extricated back to England, meeting Ben, Garfield and everyone else. He could never have predicted an entire conspiracy that had been put in place so long ago by Omega, and he most certainly could never have stopped it so soon. It was their fault, right down at the heart of it; Omega was to blame. They were the ones who killed so many, they were the ones forcing Alex to do things he wished he hadn't. It was _them_ that deserved to pay, not him.

A scream from above made him jump out of his rant. He raced to some precarious looking metal ladders, the rungs hot to his touch. He carried on anyway, his hands charring as he made his way up. He had a choice; first level or the second level? Where had the scream come from? He glanced around, scanning for any sign of fleeting movement.

"Alex, please!" Ella's cry for help came. He zoned in on the sound, leaping up the ladder to the second floor. Aiming the handgun, he watched about, looking for the any figure moving in the darkened embers. A backdrop of fire illuminated the floor, blocked every so often by still standing shelves and collapsed roofing panels.

Suddenly, out in the dark, two figures stalked. Alex aimed, taking a warning shot. The bullet whizzed past them, but he hoped they got the message. He was _not_ happy.

"You are a meddlesome little child!" Mrs Jones called out from the shadows, keeping her location unknown to Alex. She fired off several shots as well, each one missing by miles, "Why won't you just die?"

"Don't make this harder than it already is," Alex replied, "You've hurt everyone I care about. Do you really think I'm going to stop now when I can have my revenge upon you for ruining everything?"

"You aren't a vengeful boy, Alex," Mrs Jones cooed, firing yet more shots at the slowly but steadily advancing Alex. He wasn't even trying to avoid them, he just kept walking with an unchanging pace, "You are one of the 'good guys', yes? Getting revenge isn't what you want! You work for the government, you have standards! Besides, you hate killing…"

"I hate you," Alex said coldly, "Which is reason enough, but no; you had to go and drag me back into this dark world I loathe so much. I've killed once before, myself in fact. Killing you won't be a problem." He rounded a corner, aiming down it with the Browning. But Mrs Jones or Ella weren't there, "I hate working for the government. They welcomed me with forceful arms when they wanted me, and cast me away whenever I needed them, or when they didn't want me. I was shot, tortured, abused and degraded all for the sake of this country, for the world and all the thanks I get is yet more pain and suffering? Well no thank you, I'll have my revenge, and if the _government_ have something to say about they can bloody well shut up, or I'll do what you're planning on doing and tell the world the truth." Alex came to another corner, peering round, "There are no such thing as 'good guys', only men who think they are better than everyone else. It's all bullshit; same lies, just a different face. Who cares? I'll kill you with my bare hands if I need to."

Alex was finally at the other end of the platform, another ladder leading even higher, up nearer to the rafters. With no other alternative, he climbed up them, certain that they must have come this way. Once more, the ladder was boiling, but considerably cooler than the previous one. He went up more swiftly, appreciating the slight reprieve.

The next floor was much like the last, except larger, more spacious and void of much cover. Hopefully had would have an easier time tracking Mrs Jones now.

He edged forward, circling around with his Browning raised. Just then, Mrs Jones burst out of the dark, clawing at Alex's gun in his hand. It scuttled to the floor, sliding far off into the dark. He reacted as fast as he could, but she was upon him before he could make any kind of defence. They fell to the floor, Mrs Jones continuing a relentless assault on Alex. He pulled up his knees, winding her in the stomach. She keeled back a little, and Alex used his heavier weight to push her to the side, clocking her in the face with his knuckles. But she recovered fast, and using momentum managed to drag Alex back under her. She slashed at his face with sharp nails, slicing his face with not-too-deep gashes which bled down his face. He growled, snatching her wrists before she could anymore damage. He swung his legs round, kicking out her knees from under her. She toppled, crashing to the floor. To the side, Alex caught sight of the hand gun. So did Mrs Jones. Scrabbling to their feet, they each attempted to get to the weapon first. Alex leapt, reaching with an outstretched hand into the dark. Mrs Jones stamped on his hand inches away, grinding her heel into the skin. He cried out, trying in futile to yank his hand back from under her foot. She bent down, picking up the Browning like a delicate flower.

"Oh dearie me… Now what is this? Alex carrying a gun, naughty-naughty; what did Blunt keep telling you about being issued with guns?" She admired the pistol, turning it this way and that, the flaming light casting across slender metal. "I wonder if you're even carrying _live_ ammunition… I suppose there's only one way to find out." She pointed the gun down, directly at Alex. He barely had a chance to finally tear his hand free from under her heel, grazing the skin and rapidly rolling away. The shot tore past his head, cutting through the air just past his ear. He felt the heat, and knew he didn't have time to simply roll about the place. He needed to move. Now.

He pulled himself up, running back into the dark, behind collapsed shelves just as another shot sliced past, the gunshot sounding like leather snapping. Alex kept sprinting, vaulting over a crack in the floor where flames danced and flickered through. He heard the clack of shoe against metal trotting after him, make slow, purposeful advances. Alex did the best he could in trying to keep ahead, trying to avoid the oncoming gunfire. Mrs Jones fired again, the bullet biting out a chunk of concrete as it collided with the wall. She fired again, this time missing Alex by centimetres. He was caught in the open, trapped between a sheer drop and _her_.

"Well, well, well; it looks like this is it. This is the end of the line," Mrs Jones whistled. Alex smiled sarcastically,

"No small talk. Either shot me or make a mistake, your decision," he sighed. Mrs Jones mirrored his grin, bringing the Browning up to eye level and taking aiming. She strutted forward, swaying from side to side with cockiness. Alex saw his chance, moving quickly doing a round house kick, swiping at the gun. It was a strain having not attempted the move in a while. But it worked, the gun bouncing harmlessly out of her hand and misfiring as it clattered to the ground. Both Mrs Jones and Alex shied away, fearing that the shot may hit them. They were fine, But Alex, being the far more daring of the two, began to react first, shoving her roughly with his shoulder so that she tumbled backwards, winded once more. He curled his hand into a fist, swinging it in a wide arc and connecting with her arm, raised to block the attack. He did the same, with an uppercut this time, crouching down lower and lifting upwards, smacking into the bottom of her jaw. She fell to the floor, falling like a drunk as she finally – seemingly – passed out. It had to be now. He could get to the gun first, he could do it now. But Mrs Jones's hand snatched out, grasping his ankle and pulling him down with all her might. Much to his best effort, Alex only tripped, stumbling slightly as his knee gave out under him, cracking against the metal floor with a reverberating crash. He winced in pain, but nevertheless grabbed the Browning, spinning around, ready to fire.

But she was gone, vanished as abruptly as she had attacked. He jumped up, very wary now of his surroundings. She could be anywhere now, hidden and shrouded in darkened shadows. He rotated on the spot, searching the dark for her form. In the corner of his eye he missed the flash of a silhouetted figure dashing past a wall of fire. He swiftly spun, shooting out already into the flames. There was no one there. He began pacing around. He didn't have time, he needed to find Ella and find that broach. Now that he recalled, however, he realised of all the times he'd sparred with Mrs Jones, he'd never once seen that broach – nothing of any jewellery. She must have hidden it somewhere, but where was the question? The warehouse will be destroyed almost certainly, probably later searched so that was impossible. Then where else? On her person somewhere or maybe she'd already handed it to another operative to run off with? Or did that too trusting of her? It was _her_ scheme after all. Would she allow that?

Suddenly, Mrs Jones burst out from behind some of the consoles, minus a blazer and a different coloured skirt. Alex was confused, but he didn't let on. Instead, he aimed the Browning right at her forehead, but her cheeks were stained with dried tears and grime, her make-up smeared. He hesitated. Mrs Jones played upon that,

"No! Don't shoot! It's me – the _real_ Mrs Jones. The other one kidnapped me during one of your missions and replaced me. You have to believe me!" Alex hesitated some more, but didn't move the gun, "Please Alex! It's me Tulip!"

"Who's my current guardian?" Alex demanded, retraining the pistol. Mrs Jones answered within a heartbeat,

"Jack Starbright… why?"

"What is Blunt's current job?"

"Head of MI6, I don't understand Alex…" Mrs Jones was unsure, thoroughly confused by Alex's standards. He didn't have a choice. He would have to trust her.

"What happened to you?" he asked more softly, removing the gun from her forehead. She let out a quiet sigh of relief, picking up on her story quickly,

"I was abducted by these goons, Omega I think they're called. I've been kept here for months, completely cut off and held against my will. They've kept me starved, tortured me by blasting me with cold water and other horrible things. Is there any way I can help?"

"Help with what?" Alex queried, unaware as to why Mrs Jones was offering her help so willingly; the situation was incredibly bizarre.

"With taking down Omega: I overheard some of the guards taking about an all out fight to the death, where everything was at stake. I want to help in any way I can." Alex raised an eye brow,

"You could, I don't know, GET OUT OF HERE!" he yelled, annoyed at how brusque she was being about the whole subject. He was losing valuable time. He didn't need this.

"Alex, I will help whether you like it or not. I want to get back at those bastards." The teen spy sighed,

"Alright, alright! Take the gun," he handed over his pistol, "I need to go and find my friend. You go and find your counterpart and take her out. She'll be wearing a broach; you need to get that above all else and destroy it, regardless of whether you'll live or not."

"Wouldn't it be better if we stuck together?" Mrs Jones suggested, "That way they can't surprise us or anything." Alex appraised her, but eventually nodded his head, leading the way while she readied herself with the gun.

"I think they went this way," She said, pointing back down the ladder. Alex shook his head,

"No, I'm sure it would be this way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I am… Why do you doubt me?" Alex inquired only half paying attention to what she really said. He had more pressing matters, like where Ella was and where the fake, evil Mrs Jones was. The real Mrs Jones behind Alex huffed, trying to sum up herself for an answer.

"This way…" Alex dodged his way through fallen roofing and burning wreckage. Mrs Jones followed dutifully, keeping up with Alex's pace. The warehouse was a mess, utter carnage. The blistering wind blew through the torn holes in the roof and Alex felt the icy chill of sleet. The contrast between fire and rain brought a shiver to Alex, but he pressed on, the wetsuit still protecting him from the harsh environment.

A part of the rafting had caved in, panels leading up in a steep slope outside. There was no other way; they would have had to come up here. Alex jogged up, leaping up as fast as he could. He was running out of time. Where had they gone?

Then he saw Ella; tied to a chair, balanced perfectly on the edge in the cold, frigid rain.

Alex rushed over to her, but slowed to a halt once he noticed the flashing red lights surrounding the base of the chair. Ella was rigged up to a bomb; obviously he hadn't been the only one to think about setting explosives. She stared like a frightened rabbit at Alex, silently pleading with him. All that mattered was Ella – the broach could wait. He was her only hope. If he got too close, she would fall, plummeting to her death. If he didn't do anything at all, the bombs would almost certainly detonate, killing her anyway. There was no other choice. It was time to cut the charade.

"You know, it was almost believable," Alex said, still facing Ella. His face was neutral. He didn't want to scare Ella, but he was furious. Absolutely livid, and he wouldn't rest until the woman behind him was dead.

"How did you know?" Mrs Jones said, the gun Alex had given her mere moments ago pointed directly at him.

"You said you were tortured by being blasted by cold water, yet somehow your make-up is still smudged across your ugly mug," Alex turned around, finally facing his foe face to face for the first time in a long while. "Of all the people I expected to be traitors, of people whom I thought I could trust, I least suspected it'd be you at the heart of it all."

"But dear Alex, whom else did you expect?" Mrs Jones sneered, "I spent years working for this, years of my life aiming to be the catalyst for a new world order. Of course it had to be me. That fool Blunt couldn't even have hoped to achieve what we will. He thought he was in on the whole deal, that if he cooperated with my demands then he would be included in the new world. He refused to join us, yet wanted everything we were gaining. He recognised out superiority the instant we revealed ourselves to us. But then he got too cocky."

"I assume that by the grand performance you're going to tell me how, why and what you did to him?"

"Quite funny, Alex, and indeed I shall." Mrs Jones straightened herself out, "Blunt wanted authority and power. When Scorpia was running amok, he took matters into his own hands and began weaving a web for you to go on a mission. We had to deal with him. We had operatives move in to depose him, strip him of his rank and force him into retirement. He wasn't dying of cancer. _We_ were killing him; his dear sweet doctor wasn't exactly _his_ doctor. He was ours, and dear Blunt wasn't going to get any better." Alex cut in again,

"So you killed him?"

"Essentially, but we prefer to call it medicinal termination," Mrs Jones smiled, "And that was him gone. Then it was the problem of you. The Pleasure's had kicked up such a fuss I had to let them take you away off to America."

"And then you had them killed as well…" Alex finished, strutting a little forwards, "Why haven't you killed Sabina yet?"

"We don't need to kill her, she's been hurt enough… for now." Mrs Jones grinned again, "And we're far from finished with her in our plans." Alex frowned,

"What do you mean?" Mrs Jones laughed, cackling again with that sound that Alex had quickly grown to detest. He growled, venturing forwards further a bit more. He had a dark shadow cast over his face, "Fine, we'll play it your way. To be honest, I don't quite care what you plan to do, because I'll stop you, just like I stopped you today. So laugh away, but mark my words you will be dead regardless of how smug you are."

"Oh and look! Here we have the remarkable Rider bravado; such nobility, such valour. You even share the same wit as your father," she drawled, "It's a shame you're going to have to die like him. Fitting, wouldn't you agree, that you shall die at Omega's hands and he at Scorpia's. An almost poetic balance brought about in life." Alex smirked, sauntering a little further towards her,

"I have just one question to ask you, before I die," he began, "You mentioned this 'new world', but when Omega rules over everything with a unified nation etcetera, what then?" The question took Mrs Jones by surprise, "What will you do then? There won't be anything left to do!"

"We will rebuild the world!" she crooned, "A new beautiful world! We are doing you all a favour here! It will be a joyous utopia!"

"How?" Alex asked, "Not everyone will appreciate your 'perfect' world, which is impossible, by the way. You're always going to have people who disagree with your views. People who want equality amongst all men, people who want land and money shared fairly. Left and right wing parties all arguing over what should be done. You can't solve all that in just a single fell swoop!"

Mrs Jones considered Alex's argument,

"If there is opposition it will be crushed," she said, completely undermining her previous statement. Alex sighed,

"So then it'll be more like a dystopia than a utopia? Glory to Omega, all those who disagree face the iron fist?" Mrs Jones leered at him,

"Yes, yes it will be like that. Omega shall reign supreme, we shall control everything. And no one would be the wiser. We shall be in the shadows, waiting." Alex chuckled, shaking his head, taking yet more steps further forward. The rain was striking down hard now, swimming along the rooftop. All the while Ella was stuck at the back, facing death right in the face. Alex had to do something, and he only had one idea left.

"You're not going to give me the impossible choice? Save Ella, let you go or kill you and, in turn, Ella as well?"

"If you kill me, then a sensor monitoring my pulse and heart rate, just like your wetsuit, will trigger the bombs attached to her chair. A nice advantage when you work for the enemy; you get to use all their toys. That imbecile Smithers was an oaf handing over the technology so willingly. If you don't kill me, then I shall kill you and then Ella shall die regardless." Mrs Jones took a step back, "So naturally, only the latter is available to you. You won't let precious Ella die will you?" she mocked in a soppy voice.

"Never," Alex said, pulling the second hand gun out of his belt, hidden from view. But he couldn't help but relish in the last moment of victory, knowing it would all be finally over, "Just one more thing, you know, before dying, but it's just that, when Agent Viking hacked your system remember – and he did mention that did include all wireless systems. So he knows exactly how to jam any signals you've been sending. Which just so happens to be what he's done for me now, with help from that _'imbecile_' Smithers." Alex went back through the options on his GPS wristband, selecting the newly uploaded modification. It was a jamming broadcast, blocking all of their transmissions; _all _of them. "So your bombs, your transmission of the stolen data – _everything –_ are all useless." Alex raised his gun, training it on Mrs Jones. "Let's see how well you burn now if you take a bullet to the head."

Mrs Jones snarled, growling viciously like some kind of feral beast. She looked inhuman, horrible compared to what Alex once knew her as.

"You won't kill me!" she shrieked, "You're not a killer! You're a good person, you have morals! YOU CAN'T KILL ME!" She became fervent, hysterical with the fact that she had been bested, "THIS IS JUST PHASE ONE! I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO DO! THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING!"

"No," Alex said patiently, "This is the end for you. Good bye Mrs Jones."

"Not if I shoot you first!"

One gun fired.

One body slumped to the ground.

Alex watched the unmoving form of Mrs Jones for a brief moment, turning back to Ella. He pulled the chair forwards, cutting through the rope by utilising some strewn glass, a shard large enough to hold and he sliced through the bindings. As they fell away, Alex suddenly heard Ella muffle around the gag, and a scream erupted from behind him. Acting with haste, he spun around, already lifting his foot up off the floor for another round house kick. His foot slammed into the side of Mrs Jones, whom with outstretched arms and a haggard face looked exactly like a witch – complete with a bloody wound on her shoulder where the bullet must have strayed. She stumbled, but not enough to fall. Alex attempted another kick, connecting with her hip. This time she fell back a little, collapsing hard against the roof. Bruised and broken she was delirious, and tried once more like a threatened wounded animal to attack Alex for a final time.

She never got the chance, as before she had even leapt up off the floor he had taken aim at her head, and when she turned around, aligned it perfectly with her forehead. The last thing she saw was a neutral Alex looking down upon her, almost apologetic. Then nothing; no pain; no darkness.

Mrs Jones fell onto her back for the last and final time, dead. Alex crouched down, his hand gently slipping into her inside pocket, pulling out the small broach that had been their main goal all along. The small, sleek device, tiny and unnoticeable, sat neatly in his palm, undamaged and glowing with a soft aura of white. The government's darkest secrets housed on a little piece of jewellery, never to be shown to the public; Alex smiled. Ella tiptoed around the dead body of Mrs Jones, petrified still even though she was dead. She clung to Alex, holding onto his arm tightly.

"It's okay…" he whispered, hugging her and stroking the matted strands of hair, "It's over now."

**And so concludes the finale. I shall have the epilogue up as soon as possible, so bear with. **

**I hope that was to everyone's tastes. I'll leave my final comments and such to the end of the epilogue.**

**So I'll be writing a trilogy for this series, with a bridge between each story, as I have a secondary main character I'd like to explore with you. **

**At the end of the next chapter, I'll reveal the name of that story with its summary, so be sure to stay tuned :D**

**Reviews are very much welcomed and appreciated.**

**Thanks – K9**

**Question to the audience: Do **_**you**_** think it's all over?**


	30. Epilogue

**Here it is the final chapter. I think I'm gonna shed a tear or two. Oh well, I hope you enjoy this, a good last mushy chapter before I set to work on the bridge.**

**In response to the reviews who managed to review in such a short space of time:**

**Jellie Smiff: Thanks for reviewing and reading! Hope you like this epilogue!**

**2whitie: *chokes on tea* Goodness, don't choke! D:  
>Who ever said it was over? :D<br>And I just have to ask, who is Bryne? I have a Blue, a Blunt, a Ben and even a Beatrice… but no Bryne. Did you mean someone else? Thanks for reading and reviewing anyway! **

**Sapphire2309: You are dastardly clever dear Saph! Indeed it may not be over at all! And there is much than just who Joy is as an unanswered loose end. :D  
>I think you will enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reviewing and reading!<strong>

**Happy reading!**

**Chapter 30: Epilogue**

"…_so hopefully this will be the last we here of Omega, and once again I spread my condolences to all of those who have been affected that were close to you. I know this has been a testing time for you all, and so if there is anything more that I can do that wasn't on your little list of demands then you just let me know. Speaking of which, I've dealt with several of these; firstly, I have requested special clearance for the SAS soldiers' code named Lion's and Eagle's union. The 'don't ask, don't tell' policy is being reviewed in Parliament as we speak, and I believe it is the majority's vote that leans towards it being abolished. Until then, they are free to go ahead with their union; I have made it quite clear to the Sergeant at Brecon Beacons that they are not to be dismissed on any accounts of their sexuality. Secondly, I've looked into Sabina Pleasure for you, but I'm afraid the American officials are being testy. I can't seem to get word through to her. I shall keep trying at your request, and I promise to contact you when I do. Since I have assumed command at MI6, I now have full authority over your citizenship and such due to the fact you are now a retired agent. I'm granting you full citizenship wherever you desire, and I've pushed forward with Agent Daniels adoption papers for you, as well as Captain Alvarez's adoption papers for Agent Viking and said SAS soldiers' Lion's and Eagle's application for adoption of Tom Harris, as per your request again. Suffice to say I've had my work cut out looping around social services, but I'm trying my best to get them through for you. I'll deliver news on that topic when I receive information at a later date. Your friends that were so carelessly and regrettably involved in the Omega siege will have free medical care completely, regardless of whether it is private practise or not. They deserve the best help we can provide considering the sacrifices some of them made for the cause, namely Terence Daniels. I got the toxicology reports back from our laboratories and the new Incendiary Particle has been purged from their systems, and we now have the advantage of having complete specimens to examine and understand. Should Omega return, we will have better knowledge of how they work and where._

"_I must also inform you that there are some shifting roles in power at the moment within both MI5 and MI6 due to the mass scale infiltration. All members and agents are being reviewed and analysed to avoid further damage. Strictly off the record, but I believe that Mr Silver is up to something, and is having many secret meetings without my knowledge. If he is planning something, I would be on my guard; who knows whom he could have in mind for what. As I have said before, I'll give you more information when it comes. _

"_On a lighter note, I do believe you can begin school once more for the term before Christmas. Brooklands has been rebuilt after receiving sudden and extremely generous donations from an external sponsor who wishes to remain anonymous. I've taken the liberty to sign everyone back up so you may not miss anymore schoolwork. I know how much you actually miss school, Alex, so I wish you the best of luck and hope to hear from you soon. Please bear in mind I no longer expect you to involve yourself with the world of espionage again, but with the nature of your future-father's work I doubt you will be completely free of it. A part of me dearly wishes to never see you again, without wanting that to sound too harsh and cruel, but we both know it would be for the best. Well, I'd better be off now, work to do, agencies to run. Your country thanks you Alex, you did fantastically. Good bye."_

That was the end of the message left by Mr Arnold Cartman, the new head of MI6. Alex pressed 'stop' before it looped round for a fourth time. It was just so liberating to hear. For once, just a small minute once, MI6 were actually listening to him, answering his questions and fulfilling his requests. Never had that been done before for him. Maybe it was because of the severity, or maybe it was because of the change in command; Alex couldn't have cared less. He'd won. He'd gotten out of a world he thought he would have been trapped in forever. True, Ben was still an agent, and so was Blue and the fact that K-Unit was practically family now to him meant that avoiding the military and spying worlds won't be easy, but rather more manageable instead. He'd never felt this good since he'd left for America all that time ago with Edward Pleasure. Even saying his name now didn't bring on the usual overwhelming guilt and remorse it once did. Alex had exacted vengeance, for destroying his life and so many others as well.

Standing in his room, he was by his desk, the message recorded on the phone he had had moved there. Outside, now that the message had been stopped, he could hear the muffled voices and talk of all manner of things. He could see out too, overlooking the garden. He could see the mass of people all collected around the barbeque, Terry standing there poking and prodding at whatever was cooking, Will standing not too far off with his pregnant wife whom Alex was yet to meet. K-Unit was spread out, mingling mainly with themselves but with others. Melissa's parents had been freed from protective custody under orders from Cartman, and had managed to attend the get-together at Tom and Mel's request. They didn't exactly look comfortable, but they at least made an effort to try and show some respect and appreciation to the people who had saved their daughter from an unimaginable hell. Ben, Tom and Blue were nowhere to be seen however.

There was a soft cough at Alex's door, and he glanced back over his shoulder to see who it was. Ben leant in the doorway, arms crossed and dressed in the usual jeans and shirt. His and Alex's wounds had healed up nicely, as though they had never existed in the first place. The slashes on his cheek from Mrs Jones were gone, his several scratches and bruises had long since faded and the stab wound from oh so long ago was nothing but a distant, regretted memory now. Ben's bullet wounds had been cleaned up, and while looking like a rejected mummy for several days he had been surprisingly fine and chipper once they were off. He and Alex had come so far in such a short space of time, and Alex had been shocked – albeit happy – when Ben had suggested official adoption. Ben's main argument was that now the teen was too far integrated into the family to suddenly just leave, that his brothers and he agreed it would be a sorry shame to see him go. That and the fact that Ben loved Alex like the son he had never had, or hasn't had yet from a different perspective. When he had said that Alex had been modest, denying that Ben's feelings were that paternal, but the man had insisted it was so, and conversation had swiftly gone from denial to acceptance, and then to agreement, and so here was Alex today, awaiting for the documents to be cleared. Until then Cartman had granted Ben's sole legal guardianship as a sort of 'bodyguard'.

"What are you doing up here?" the Liverpudlian asked, sauntering into the room, unfolding his arms, "Everyone is waiting for you downstairs. If you're not the country's hero, then you're certainly theirs. They refuse to properly start without you."

"I'll be down in a sec," Alex excused himself; "I just have to finish off up here."

"Finish off what kid?" Ben said, confused, "You're still not listening to that message are you? Alex, it's been nearly a month since Omega's fall. What's wrong?" he finished, concern and worry etched into his voice. Alex sighed,

"I don't know," he admitted, "It's just I can't believe I'm free for once. That it's been a month and no bad guys have shown up on the door step, I'm starting school once more and I'm part of a family of sorts now. It just seems so unreal that this is finally happening after all that."

"I understand the anxiety you're going through, but Omega, if they _are_ still out there, haven't made a move since and probably won't until you're an old man when they've formulated some other farfetched and incredulous scheme to take over the world. We've moved on, we can get on with the rest of our domestic lives," Ben supplied, taking Alex into a hug, his hand idly rubbing the teen's shoulder, "I can get a girlfriend, you can ace your exams, we can get a dog, I'll probably get married if we both agree it's the right one, we can celebrate Christmas, and Birthdays. Then I'll grow old and then you'll start a family of your own, get a job and the cycle repeats."

"That sounds good, "Alex murmured in agreement, getting the tiniest bit teary at the thought of that perfect life laid out ahead of him, "That sounds really good."

"So no more brooding then?" Ben asked, pulling his head back from the hug so he could look at Alex. The teen laughed with a genuine chuckle,

"Yeah… no more brooding."

"Come on then, we better get going. Foods gonna get burnt otherwise."

They left the room together, Ben first with Alex following in tow. He pulled the door to, shutting it with a quiet click. Ben made his way downstairs, and Alex draped his wooden beads around his neck, adjusting them so they looked presentable. He then made his own way downstairs, jogging down each step until he got to the bottom. Tom was there, walking past having come through the dining room,

"Oh, hey Alex…"

"Hey," Alex replied, noticing the distant tone in his friend's voice immediately, "Something up?"

"No, it's just…" he hesitated, reluctant to answer. He tried again, but words failed him and he couldn't find the right thing to say. Eventually, he just sighed, "Alex, do you remember when you killed that clone of yours?"

"Yes…" Alex drawled, bewilderment in his voice, "Why?"

"That feeling you had, you know that sick, twisted feeling that sits in the bottom of your gut, like you've done something awful and wish you hadn't but can't do anything about; what's it called?"

"Guilt" Alex replied plainly, "And it hurts like a bitch."

"Each and every day?" Tom asked, suddenly wary. Alex sighed,

"Yes; and it will for the rest of my life." Tom didn't respond, and Alex tried to connect the dots,

"What are you getting at Tom? Is something the matter?" Tom didn't reply again, peering awkwardly at his feet which had suddenly become far more interesting than the topic of conversation. Alex cocked his head to the side, frowning, "Is this about what happened with Mr E?"

Tom heaved slightly, taking a deep breath of air. But he nodded all the same.

"Tom, that man was evil and insane. He was leading an operation that would have hurt millions in time, but our friends and loved ones within minutes. Had you not killed him, he would have certainly killed you, so it was in self-defence. And then he would have killed them. It was for the best. Just remember that you saved three lives that day and not that you took one of a madman." Alex comforted, trying to rationalise the death of another person caused by his best friend. It pained him to see him like this; he was collateral damage, but Alex didn't feel so guilty anymore. Sure it was there, niggling away, but less so. Maybe because the strain was bearing down on his shoulders alone: Tom would have Lion and Eagle now if he needed advice with coming to terms of man slaughter.

"Okay… thanks, Al." He thought for a moment, "Hey, Alex; how come Mr E didn't burst into flames like the rest of those creeps? I thought they were supposed to do that." Alex was worried too,

"I have no idea. They were directors I suppose. Maybe they were too influential and important to be placed at risk?" Tom thought silently, nodding eventually. Then a smile suddenly lit up upon his face,

"Can we go get food now? I'm starving. And Terry's cooking…" Alex could just imagine the drooling Tom was doing in his head, salivating at the thought of his uncle's culinary skills. Even he had to admit, that did sound appealing…

Tom led the way, Alex trailing behind. He had barely gotten down through the living room and into the kitchen when he was pulled brutally aside by yet another person. Ready for a fight, he raised his fists, alarmed and prepared.

"Cool it, Rider-boy, it's only me." It was Blue, his hands raised in the air by his head in defeat and surrender. Alex lowered his stance, squinting at the other teen warily,

"Can I help you?" he asked, wondering why Garfield was keeping him from his food.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Blue began, pulling out some small smartphone, "Did Mrs Jones say anything of vital importance before you shot her?" He was cautious to use the word kill. It was hardly appropriate. Alex sighed, but thought all the same. Had she said anything important? He couldn't recall properly, but there was one thing,

"Yes, actually – something about Phase One? About it being 'just the beginning'." He suddenly realised the gravity of what he said, "You don't think they'll be coming do you? Cartman said it was highly probably they wouldn't!"

"Oh, I'm sure they won't," Garfield bluffed, running through the evidence in his head, "But it's better to be safe rather than sorry, right?" Alex agreed reluctantly, and went off, leaving the worried and frayed Garfield behind him. Something was wrong to him. The teen technician could tell. Omega weren't finished. They couldn't be. They had been so well prepared before now, put years of effort into a grand scheme only to have it fail at the hands of a teenager? Blue was very worried. Highly probably they wouldn't come back, but that didn't mean for definite. He kept quiet about it though, as he always did. Puzzles were best when they were solved on their own, without anyone else's help. It was how he was raised, thanks to that damn hooligan Mr E. Maybe that was part of the plot as well, another factor in their mastermind plan. He couldn't tell. Garfield sighed, rubbing his temple, brushing the strand of blue hair to the side and out of his eyes. Why were things getting so complicated? On top of all that, he also had to worry about that freaking prophecy that Joy Anibas and Aidan Brock hammered into him. When the clocks strike thirteen and when the apple falls he will know. Know what? How can the clock strike thirteen? That was impossible wasn't it? He had so many questions with so few answers, and it was driving him insane – and that girl… the one in the trench coat. She knew about his past, she was in league with that estranged tycoon. They held answers, and they were doing something dastardly with MI5, possibly even MI6. Garfield decided he would have to investigate that too, and he began tapping in a memo into his phone. So Mrs Jones was predicting yet more phases to come – phases of whatever plan had been laid out – and that strange tycoon and mysterious girl were prophesising some kind of revelation from the course of bizarre actions. It was all just so much to remember, and a headache was already knocking in his head, begging to be tended too, threatening to make things worse.

Just then, two large muscular arms wrapped themselves around him, but Garfield didn't even flinch. He had heard the footsteps, the light breathing and the smell of the cologne he knew too well. A chin was placed atop his head as he was held in a hug, still typing away at his phone.

"What are you up to?" Wolf asked, glancing down at the phone's screen. Blue quickly hid it, not wanting him to see,

"Nothing," he lied. He quickly changed the subject, "You really are terrible at stealth, do you realise that?"

"I wasn't trying to be stealthy!" Wolf spluttered indignantly, not moving from the embrace. There was a moment of silence before he said quietly, "If you want to talk, all you have to do is ask. Do _you_ realise _that_?"

"Of course," Garfield said, not entirely sure of himself. They'd been through a lot together, but could he trust the man with his deadliest secrets and most private thoughts; thoughts that could ruin everything? Best not for now, today was for celebration not gloomy depression.

"You don't sound convinced…" Wolf muttered under his breath, scratching the teen on the head with his knuckles, kissing the ruffled hair, "Come on. We're going to keep people wondering where the hell we are."

So they headed out the door together, out into the lasting crisp sunshine as summer edged in autumn. A few scattering of leaves had begun to fall. Not enough to be casting overshadows of auburn and amber across the garden, but enough to create that seasonal feel. There were very little clouds today, sparse; far and few between. A nice warm heat radiated down. It was all so perfect. The storm had passed and the sun was finally beaming down made for an excellent end to the horrors they had collectively faced. Over by the smoking barbeque, Terry stood as cheery as ever, stood on his own leg and his new prosthetic one fitted just recently. He was still getting used to the new limb, testing its weight, its manoeuvrability, its aesthesis. Alex had no idea what it felt like to have an appendage severed only to be replaced by the ghost of one, a fake lump of plastic attached to what had once been a part of your body. Unnatural as it was, Alex still felt a twinge of sadness and guilt whenever he looked at it, knowing that deep down he had been a catalyst for that. But then he would always catch sight of Terry's gleaming smile and upbeat voice and he realised that nothing was wrong. If anything this had made him more determined to be active, more blunt and upfront. He had been lucky, really. Mr E had only cut away from below the knee. Terry still had the joint and so could still walk with the slightest of limps. Physiotherapy would soon clear that out, and Alex wondered whether in six or eight months his uncle would be waltzing about with strides as he remembered.

Ella, on the other hand, was dealing with the trauma one day at a time, as was Mel. Will and Terry had known full well what to expect when his brother signed up to MI6, so had been far better prepared for the shock of being captured and tortured. But the girls in contrast were completely oblivious to the dangers. Snake was a soldier, but she had never expected to be on the receiving end of such unimaginable terrors. Mel had been the least suspecting, and both of them had that reflection of pain in their eyes that Alex kept seeing. He saw it in Tom as well, the shock and trauma from their experiences bleeding through. But they were being cared for, and Alex didn't doubt for a second they wouldn't pull through. They were strong. Possibly even stronger than him, he dared say.

Snake had been elated over the rescuing of his daughter, but still watched Alex with guarded eyes. He would deny that he was caught up on the whole ordeal and didn't trust Alex wholly, but the teen could see, just like his friends' pain, he could see. He could see the glimmer of caution every time he met with Snake. Alex sighed; maybe he would heal as well with time, like picking up the broken shards when a glass is dropped upon the floor. But he had to be careful, as these fragments were sharp, and all it took was one thoughtless slip and someone would get hurt again.

In the corner was Jack's tree, growing rather nicely. Alex smiled, knowing that he could still remember his loved ones without having the weight of their deaths bearing down on him. It was a welcome reprieve.

Alex managed to see Tom in the small gathering, standing with Lion and Eagle, having some kind of animated talk with them about something. Eagle was just laughing his head off as Lion blushed, and Alex guessed tom was once again stepping into no-man's-land and asking all the questions they didn't want to answer. Typical of Tom, but then again, he was about to start trusting parents once more. After what happened to his real parents, Alex would understand if the teen was going to be questioning of most things. Or perhaps he had the entire context of the conversation wrong and they were talking about something completely different, like a comedian or a television show. Anything was possible with his eccentric friend.

Then Blue and Wolf came out of the kitchen. For some reason, and he couldn't but his finger on it, Alex knew that Garfield was worried about something, the air of anxiety fluttering around him. But he had Wolf, and Wolf would tell Ben and Ben would tell Alex. He'd find out if something was wrong eventually. It just seemed so strange that Wolf and Blue – sworn enemies to begin with – were now forming a sort of family of their own. Then again, Wolf had been a bastard to him at Brecon Beacons as well, and then forgiven him. It was that out of the ordinary, but certainly a surprise. Ben had even suggested the notion of making K-Unit Alex's honorary uncles. As if he didn't have enough already…

Tom made his way over to Mel just as Alex stepped up next to Ben. The man smiled down at him, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention,

"Excuse me!" he called loudly, "I'm not really one for making speeches, but today's an exception. After a harrowing chain of events over the course of a few weeks, the ordeal is finally over. I pass my condolences to all those hurt, or wounded or worse. It has been the toughest of times for us all. But if it weren't for the help of Alex right here, no one would be here today. He stopped Mrs Jones, he protected us all from carnage, and he has saved our lives so many times and has never been thanked. Well, today, here, we are going to do just that. Can I have three cheers for Alex Rider, the hero of the hour?"

Everyone chorused in jubilation, raising their glasses if they had them and toasting Alex's efforts. He blushed in modesty, already forming some kind of excusing response to explain that he did nothing. Ben stopped him, ushering him away from the supposed stage.

"Dinner is served!" Will called from the buffet table laid out, K-Unit having brought beers and the Daniels brothers having brought the food. Terry was already moving a plateful of sausages and burgers stacked high just as they all began swarming, taking what they wished. Ella hung back a little, smiling at Alex as he passed her. He went further, out of eyeshot of Snake and held her to him, kissing her gently on the lips. The he repeated again, furthering yet again with a proper kiss. She tasted sweet, and he reluctantly pulled away. She was blushing profusely, a light shade of scarlet. Stroking a lock of hair away from her face, she turned away, not wanting to be caught by her evermore protective father. They shared a brief smile just before she eventually got swallowed up at the table, people mulling over her and blocking her from Alex's vision.

Ben pulled him away, chuckling slightly at the teen's abashed look.

"You didn't have to do that speech…" Alex protested, "I didn't want it."

"But you deserved it, and I wanted to," Ben countered, "But thank God it's over."

"I know," Alex said cheekily, "You are an awful speaker." Ben laughed good-naturedly, a gentle warming chuckle, the kind Alex loved to hear. It was a reassuring sound, it reminded him of when he was child and was afraid.

"Bloody cheek," Ben said, the fading chuckle still in his throat slightly, "I meant Omega. Thank goodness it's over."

"Yeah…" Alex said absently, rubbing his arm subconsciously. Ben picked up on the stray action,

"What's wrong? You should be ecstatic! It's all over!" he tried uplifting the boy's spirit, but Alex just seemed slightly deflated. He placed his hands on both his shoulders, angling him so he was looking at him properly. Alex huffed like a rebellious child,

"Hey," ben said sternly before he finished smiling, "I love you." A smile slowly crept onto Alex's face, lighting up his features and returning a faint sparkle to his eyes,

"I love you too Dad."

And then they hugged, and Alex relished in the warmth, feeling like he belonged at long last in sucha long while. Things were looking up.

In the distance, set off away from the crowd, Blue stood hunched over his phone, running once again for the umpteenth time through probabilities and evidence. He was right; something _was_ wrong. Horribly wrong. When he looked up and saw Alex and Ben sharing a father-son moment, it only accentuated his guilt for having to bear the bad news.

"I'm so sorry, Alex…" Garfield Viking said sorrowfully, "But it isn't over yet. It's only just getting started."

**Fin.**

**And there we have it, the official end, and no more further chapters; end of the line. I do hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. It was a great pleasure to do, and even better to hear your thoughts and comments. It's been a laborious and slow path, one with many ups and downs and shocks and twists, but I do hope it was all worth it. **

**I can only ask that all of you reading this epilogue that you will read the following bridges and sequels, and review on them as you have done here. Please bear in mind I have to craft a suitable plot for them, plan out what I'm going to write, write what I planned and then upload. My schoolwork will become paramount gradually as we move further and further towards summer, so I am forewarning you all that updates may become slightly erratic. **

**Also, I am sorry if I have left far too many loose ends, such as the mysterious girl in the trench coat, Blue's prophecy, Omega's 'Phase Two' and Alpha Industries. It just leaves more suspense for the upcoming sequels. But before they are even consider, I promised I would tell you the name of the bridge story with its summary (or proposed summary. It may be up for editing), so here it is:**

**The Viking Incursion  
>Garfield Viking calls them ghosts; memories of his past that he'd rather forget. Hunted, untrusting and back as a thief, Garfield must work with Wolf to escape death and rectify damage done. Leading from the story The Rider Conspiracy, contains Main OC and Wolf.<strong>

**Does that satisfy your appetites for mastermind plots? As I said, the summary is open to change, and I will try my best to get the bridge out as soon as possible in the New Year; just keep your eyes peeled and I'll see you then in 2012. Thanks again for reading, it really was a joy to write. Have a happy New Year!**

**Thanks and au revoir… for now**

**K9**

**P.S. Should you review, could I also ask that you write a few comments about the story on a whole? I'd like to get a general feel for where I can excel at and where I can improve, and how it was received by you, the reader.**


	31. A message from ZwooshK9

**A message to the readers of The Rider Conspiracy:**

**Good day, guten tag, bonjour and the rest of it.**

**I'm here to tell you all about the wonderful new story that follows on from this one. Please, if you are interested in the trilogy, I urge you to read The Viking Insurgence. It's uploaded now so just find it either on my account or search for it in the stories.**

**Also, I have written a prelude for Alex for this story, aptly named The Rider Prelude. I ask that you read this also, there are many much explanations.**

**So, all in all, take a few seconds to read, review, subscribe and favourite (whichever you prefer) and a great big thank you to all who have supported this and followed the story to the end. **

**More will be on its way, I assure you. We've got a war to fight…**

**Thanks – K9**


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